10,  1^.: 

LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 

PRINCETON.  N.  J. 


PRESENTED  BY 


The  V/idbw  of  G-eorge  Dugan,    '96 


Division D_0_  dCo  lb 

Section t-OkPn-    (    ■ 

V.2 


THE    EXPOSITORS  BIBLE 


EDITED    BY  THE   REV. 

W.    ROBERTSON    NICOLL,    M.A.,    LL.D. 

Editor  of  "  The  Expositor,"  etc. 


THE     GOSPEL     OF     ST.     JOHN 


MARCUS    DODS,    D.D. 


NEW   YORK 

A.    C,    ARMSTRONG    AND    SON 

51,     EAST    TENTH     STREET 
1S95 


THE     EXPOSITOR'S     BIBLE. 

Crown  Svo,  cloth,  price  %\.<^oeach  vol. 


First  Series,  1887-8. 

Colossians. 

By  A.  Maclarhn,  D.D. 

St,  Mark. 

By  Very  Rev.  the  Dean  of  Armagh. 

Genesis. 

By  Prof.  Marcus  Dods,  D.D 

1  Samuel. 

By  Prof.   W.   G.  Blaikie,  D.D. 

2  Samuel. 

By  the  same  Author, 

Hebrews. 

By  Principal  T.C.  Edwards.D.D. 
Second  Series,  1888-9. 
Gaiatians. 

By  Prof.  G.  G.  FiNDLAY,  B.A. 

The  Pastoral  Epistles. 

By  Rev.  A.  Plummer,  D.D. 

Isaiah  i. — xxxix. 

By  Prof.    G.    A.   Smith,    D.D. 
Vol.  I. 

The  Book  of  Revelation. 

By  Prof.  W.  MiLLlGAN,  D.D. 

1  Corinthians. 

By  Prof.  Marcus  Dods,  D.D. 
The  Epistles  of  St.  John. 

By  Rt.  Rev.  W.  Alkxandkr.D.D. 
Third  Series,  1889-90. 
Judges  and  Ruth, 

By  R.  A.  Watson,  M.A.,  D.D. 

Jeremiah. 

By  Rev.  C.  J.  Ball,  M.A. 

Isaiah  xl. — lxvi. 

By  Prof.   G.     A.   Smith,    D.D. 
Vol.  II. 

St.  Matthew. 

By  Rev.  J.  Monro  Gibson,  D.D. 

Exodus. 

By  Very  Rev.  the  Dean  of  Armagh. 

St.  Luke. 

By  Rev.  H.  Burton,  M.A. 
Fourth  Series,  1890-1. 
Ecclesiastes. 

By  Rev.  Samuel  Cox,  D.D. 

St.  James  and  St.  Jude. 

By  Rev.  A.  Plummkr,  D.D. 

Proverbs. 

By  Rev.  R.  F.  Horton,  D.D. 
Leviticus, 

By  Rev.  S.  H.  Kellogg,  D.D. 

The  Gospel  of  St.  John. 

By  Prof.  M.  Dods,  D.D.    Vol.  I. 

The  Acts  of  the  Apostles. 

By  Prof.  Stokes,  D.D.    Vol.  I. 


Fifth  Series,  1891-2. 
The  Psalms, 

By  A.  Maclaren,  D.D.     Vol.  I. 

1  and  2  Thessalonians, 

By  James  Dennkv,  D.D. 

The  Book  of  Job- 
By  R.  A.  Watson,  M.A.,  D.D. 
Ephesians, 

By  Prof.  G.  G.  Findlav,  B.A. 

The  Gospel  of  St.  John, 

By  Prof.  M.  Dods,  D.D.    Vol.11. 

The  Acts  of  the  Apostles. 

By  Prof.  Stokks,  D.D.     Vol.  II. 
Sixth  Series,  1892-3. 

1  Kings. 

By  Ven.  Archdeacon  Farrar. 

Phiiippians. 

By  Principal  Rainy,  D.D. 

Ezra,  Nehemiah,  Esther. 

By  Prof.  W.  F.  Adeney,  M.A. 

Joshua. 

By  Prof.  W.  G.  Blaikie,  D.D. 

The  Psalms, 

By  A.  Maclaren,  D.D.    Vol.11. 

The  Epistles  of  St.  Peter. 

By  Prof  Rawson  Lumby,  D.D. 
Seventh  Series,  1893-4. 

2  Kings. 

By  Ven.  Archdeacon  Farrar, 

Romans. 

By  H.  C.  G.  MouLE,  M.A. 
The  Books  of  Chronicles. 

By  Prof.  W.  H.  Bennett,  M.A. 

2  Corinthians. 

By  James  Dennev,  D.D. 

Numbers, 

By  R.  A.  Watson,  M.A.,  D.D. 

The  Psalms, 

By  A.  Maclaren,  D.D.  Vol.  III. 
eighth  series,  1895-6. 

Daniel. 

By  Ven.  Archdeacon  Farrar. 

The  Book  of  Jeremiah. 

By  Prof.  W.  H.  Bennett,  M.A. 

Deuteronomy, 

By  Prof.  .A.NDREW  Harper,  B.D. 
The  Song  of  Solomon  and 
Lamentations, 
By  Prof.  W.  F.  Adeney,  M.A. 

Ezekiel. 

By  Prof.  John  Skinner,  M.A. 

The  Minor  Prophets, 

By   Prof.   G.    A.    Smith,    D.D. 
Two  Vols. 


OCT  191923 

THE  ^%(ggfAL  Sl^g^^ 

GOSPEL    OF    ST.    JOHN 


MARCUS     T)ODS,      D.D. 

PROFESSOR    OF   EXEGETICAL   THEOLOGY,    NEW    COLLEGE,    EDINBURGH 


In    Two    Volumes 
VOL.    II. 


SECOND  EDITION 


NEW   YORK 

A.    C.    ARMSTRONG    AND    SON 

51,    EAST    TENTH    STREET 

1S95 


v> 


CONTENTS. 


I. 

PAGE 

The  Anointing  of  Jesus  .......      3 


II. 
The  Entry  into  Jerusalem      .        .        •        .        .        .    19  , 

III. 
The  Corn  of  Wheat 31 

IV. 

The  Attractive  Force  of  the  Cross     .        .        ,        -47 

V. 
Results  of  Christ's  Manifestation        .        .        .        .65 

VI. 

The  Foot-Washing 75 

VII. 

Judas    .       .  91 

VIII. 

Jesus  Announces  His  Departure 109 


vi  CONTENTS. 

IX. 

PAGE 

The  Way,  the  Truth,  and  the  Life      .        ,        .        .123 

X. 

The  Father  Seen  in  Christ    .        .        ,       ,        ,       -137 

XI. 
The  Bequest  of  Peace      >        .        .        .        .        ,       -159 

XII. 

The  Vine  and  the  Branches 175 

XIII. 
Not  Servants,  but  Friends      ...„,.  193 

XIV. 

The  Spirit  Christ's  Witness  .        -        0        .       .        .  205 

XV. 
Last  Words 229 

XVI. 

Christ's  Intercessory  Prayer         .        .       .'      .        .  247 

XVII. 

The  Arrest 263 

XVIII. 

Peter's  Denial  and  Repentance 281 

XIX. 
Jesus  Before  Pilate  . 299 


CONTENTS.  vii 

XX. 
Mary  at  the  Cross .  321 

XXI, 

The  Crucifixion         .        .        .        „        .        .        ,        .335 

XXII. 
iHE  Resurrection 351 

XXIII. 

Thomas'  Test 365 

XXIV. 
Appearance  at  Sea  of  Galilee 383 

XXV. 
Restoration  of  Peter       .......  399 

XXVI. 
Conclusion 413 


I. 

THE  ANOINTING   OF  JESUS. 


vol,.    II. 


"Jesus  therefore  six  days  before  the  Passover  came  to  Bethany, 
where  Lazarus  was,  whom  Jesus  raised  from  the  dead.  So  they  made 
Him  a  supper  there  :  and  Martha  served ;  but  Lazarus  was  one  of 
them  that  sat  at  meat  with  Him.  Mary  therefore  took  a  pound  of 
ointment  of  spikenard,  very  precious,  and  anointed  the  feet  of  Jesus, 
and  wiped  His  feet  with  her  hair  :  and  the  house  was  filled  with  the 
odour  of  the  ointment.  But  Judas  Iscariot,  one  of  His  disciples,  which 
should  betray  Him,  saith,  Why  was  not  this  ointment  sold  for  three 
hundred  pence,  and  given  to  the  poor  ?  Now  this  he  said,  not  because 
he  cared  for  the  poor  ;  but  because  he  was  a  thief,  and  having  the  bag 
took  away  what  was  put  therein.  Jesus  therefore  said,  Suffer  her  to 
keep  it  against  the  day  of  My  burying.  For  the  poor  ye  have  always 
with  you  ;  but  Me  ye  have  not  always.  The  common  people  therefore 
of  the  Jews  learned  that  He  was  there  :  and  they  came,  not  for  Jesus' 
sake  only,  but  that  they  might  see  Lazarus  also,  whom  He  had  raised 
from  the  dead.  But  the  chief  priests  took  counsel  that  they  might 
put  Lazarus  also  to  death  ;  because  that  by  reason  of  him  many  of  the 
Jews  went  away,  and  believed  on  Jesus." — John  xii.  i-ii. 


THE  ANOINTING   OF  JESUS. 

THIS  twelfth  chapter  is  the  watershed  of  the  Gospel. 
The  self-manifestation  of  Jesus  to  the  world  is 
now  ended ;  and  from  this  point  onwards  to  the  close  we 
have  to  do  with  the  results  of  that  manifestation.  He 
hides  Himself  from  the  unbelieving,  and  allows  their 
unbelief  full  scope  ;  while  He  makes  further  disclosures 
to  the  faithful  few.  The  whole  Gospel  is  a  systematic 
and  wonderfully  artistic  exhibition  of  the  manner  in 
which  the  deeds,  words,  and  claims  of  Jesus  produced, — 
on  the  one  hand,  a  growing  belief  and  enthusiasm  ;  on 
the  other,  a  steadily  hardening  unbelief  and  hostility. 
In  this  chapter  the  culmination  of  these  processes  is 
carefully  illustrated  by  three  incidents.  In  the  first 
of  these  incidents  evidence  is  given  that  there  was 
an  intimate  circle  of  friends  in  whose  love  Jesus  was 
embalmed,  and  His  work  and  memory  insured  against 
decay ;  while  the  very  deed  which  had  riveted  the 
faith  and  affection  of  this  intimate  circle  is  shown  to 
have  brought  the  antagonism  of  His  enemies  to  a  head. 
In  the  second  incident  the  writer  shows  that  on  the 
whole  popular  mind  Jesus  had  made  a  profound  im- 
pression, and  that  the  instincts  of  the  Jewish  people 
acknowledged  Him  as  King.  In  the  third  incident  the 
influence    He  was  destined   to  have  and  was  already 


THE   GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 


to  some  extent  exerting  beyond  the  bounds  of  Judaism 
is  illustrated  by  the  request  of  the  Greeks  that  they 
might  see  Jesus. 

In  this  first  incident,  then,  is  disclosed  a  devotedness 
of  faith  which  cannot  be  surpassed,  an  attachment 
which  is  absolute ;  but  here  also  we  see  that  the 
hostility  of  avowed  enemies  has  penetrated  even  the 
inner  circle  of  the  personal  followers  of  Jesus,  and  that 
one  of  the  chosen  Twelve  has  so  little  faith  or  love 
that  he  can  see  no  beauty  and  find  no  pleasure  in  any 
tribute  paid  to  his  Master.  In  this  hour  there  meet  a 
ripeness  of  love  which  suddenly  reveals  the  permanent 
place  which  Jesus  has  won  for  Himself  in  the  hearts  of 
men,  and  a  maturity  of  alienation  which  forebodes  that 
His  end  cannot  be  far  distant.  In  this  beautiful  inci- 
dent, therefore,  we  turn  a  page  in  the  gospel  and  come 
suddenly  into  the  presence  of  Christ's  death.  To  this 
death  He  Himself  freely  alludes,  because  He  sees  that 
things  are  now  ripe  for  it,  that  nothing  short  of  His 
death  will  satisfy  His  enemies,  while  no  further  mani- 
festation can  give  Him  a  more  abiding  place  in  the 
love  of  His  friends.  The  chill,  damp  odour  of  the 
tomb  first  strikes  upon  the  sense,  mingling  with  and 
absorbed  in  the  perfume  of  Mary's  ointment.  If  Jesus 
dies.  He  cannot  be  forgotten.  He  is  embalmed  in  the 
love  of  such  disciples. 

On  His  way  to  Jerusalem  for  the  last  time  Jesus 
reached  Bethany  "six  days  before  the  Passover" — that 
is  to  say,  in  all  probability^  on  the  Friday  evening 
previous  to  His  death.  It  was  natural  that  He  should 
wish  to  spend  His  last  Sabbath  in  the  congenial  and 

'  It  is  uncertain  whether  the  "six  days"  are  inclusive  or  exdusive 
of  the  day  of  arrival  and  of  the  first  day  of  the  Feast.  It  is  also 
uncertain  on  what  day  of  the  week  the  Crucifixion  happened. 


xii.  i-ii.]  THE  ANOINTING   OF  JESUS.  S 

Strengthening  society  of  a  family  whose  welcome  and 
whose  affection  He  could  rely  upon.  In  the  little  town 
of  Bethany  He  had  become  popular,  and  since  the 
raising  of  Lazarus  He  was  regarded  with  marked 
veneration.  Accordingly  they  made  Him  a  feast, 
which,  as  Mark  informs  us,  was  given  in  the  house  of 
Simon  the  leper.  Any  gathering  of  His  friends  in 
Bethany  must  have  been  incomplete  without  Lazarus 
and  his  sisters.  Each  is  present,  and  each  contributes 
an  appropriate  addition  to  the  feast.  Martha  serves  ; 
Lazarus,  mute  as  he  is  throughout  the  whole  story, 
bears  witness  by  his  presence  as  a  living  guest  to 
the  worthiness  of  Jesus  ;  while  Mary  makes  the  day 
memorable  by  a  characteristic  action.  Coming  in, 
apparently  after  the  guests  had  reclined  at  table,  she 
broke  an  alabaster  of  very  costly  spikenard^  and 
anointed  the  feet  of  Jesus  and  wiped  His  feet  with 
her  hair. 

This  token  of  affection  took  the  company  by  sur- 
prise. Lazarus  and  his  sisters  may  have  been  in 
sufficiently  good  circumstances  to  admit  of  their  making 
a  substantial  acknowledgment  of  their  indebtedness  to 
Jesus ;  and  although  this  alabaster  of  ointment  had 
cost  as  much  as  would  keep  a  labouring  man's  family 
for  a  year,  this  could  not  seem  an  excessive  return  to 
make  for  service  so  valuable  as  Jesus  had  rendered. 
It  was  the  manner  of  the  acknowledgment  which  took 
the  company  by  surprise.  Jesus  was  a  poor  man,  and 
His  very  appearance  may  have  suggested  that  there 
were  other  things  He  needed  more  urgently  than  such 

'  In  The  Classical  Review  for  July  iSgo  Mr,  Bennett  suggests  that 
the  difficult  word  Tn.aTi.Kris  should  be  written  Trttrra^-^s,  and  that  it 
refers  to  the  Pistacia  terehinthus,  which  grows  in  Cyprus  and  Judaea, 
and  yields  a  very  fragrant  and  very  costly  unguent. 


THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


a  gift  as  this.  Had  the  family  provided  a  home  for 
Him  or  given  Him  the  price  of  this  ointment,  no  one 
would  have  uttered  a  remark.  But  this  was  the  kind 
of  demonstration  reserved  for  princes  or  persons  of 
great  distinction  ;  and  when  paid  to  One  so  conspicu- 
ously humble  in  His  dress  and  habits,  there  seemed 
to  the  uninstructed  eye  something  incongruous  and 
bordering  on  the  grotesque.  When  the  fragrance  of 
the  ointment  disclosed  its  value,  there  was  therefore 
an  instantaneous  exclamation  of  surprise,  and  at  any 
rate  in  one  instance  of  blunt  disapproval.  Judas, 
instinctively  putting  a  money  value  on  this  display  of 
affection,  roundly  and  with  coarse  indelicacy  declared 
it  had  better  have  been  sold  and  given  to  the  poor. 

Jesus  viewed  the  act  with  very  different  feelings. 
The  rulers  were  determining  to  put  Him  out  of  the 
way,  as  not  only  worthless  but  dangerous-;  the  very 
man  who  objected  to  this  present  expenditure  was 
making  up 'his  mind  to  sell  Him  for  a  small  part  of 
the  sum ;  the  people  were  scrutinising  His  conduct, 
criticising  Him; — in  the  midst  of  all  this  hatred,  sus- 
picion, treachery,  coldness,  and  hesitation  comes  this 
woman  and  puts  aside  all  this  would-be  wisdom  and 
caution,  and  for  herself  pronounces  that  no  tribute  is 
rich  enough  to  pay  to  Him.  It  is  the  rarity  of  such 
action,  not  the  rarity  of  the  nard,  that  strikes  Jesus. 
This,  He  says,  is  a  noble  deed  she  has  done,  far  rarer, 
far  more  difficult  to  produce,  far  more  penetrating  and 
lasting  in  its  fragrance  than  the  richest  perfume  that 
man  has  compounded.  Mary  has  the  experience  that 
all  those  have  who  for  Christ's  sake  expose  themselves 
to  the  misunderstanding  and  abuse  of  vulgar  and 
unsympathetic  minds ;  she  receives  from  Himself  more 
explicit  assurance  that  her  offering  has  given  pleasure 


xii.  i-ii.]  THE  ANOINTING   OF  JESUS.  7 

to  Him  and  is  gratefully  accepted.  We  may  sometimes 
find  ourselves  obliged  to  do  what  we  perfectly  well 
know  will  be  misunderstood  and  censured  ;  we  may 
be  compelled  to  adopt  a  line  of  conduct  which  seems 
to  convict  us  of  heedlessness  and  of  the  neglect  of 
duties  we  owe  to  others ;  we  may  be  driven  to  action 
which  lays  us  open  to  the  charge  of  being  romantic 
and  extravagant ;  but  of  one  thing  we  may  be  perfectly 
sure — that  however  our  motives  are  mis-read  and  con- 
demned by  those  who  first  make  their  voices  heard, 
He  for  whose  sake  we  do  these  things  will  not  disparage 
our  action  nor  misunderstand  our  motives.  The  way  to 
a  fuller  intimacy  with  Christ  often  lies  through  passages 
in  life  we  must  traverse  alone. 

But  we  are  probably  more  likely  to  misunderstand 
than  to  be  misunderstood.  We  are  so  limited  in  our 
sympathies,  so  scantily  furnished  with  knowledge,  and 
have  so  slack  a  hold  upon  great  principles,  that  for  the 
most  part  we  can  understand  only  those  who  are  like 
ourselves.  When  a  woman  comes  in  with  her  effusive- 
ness, we  are  put  out  and  irritated  ;  when  a  man  whose 
mind  is  wholly  uneducated  utters  his  feelings  by  shout- 
ing hymns  and  dancing  on  the  street,  we  think  him  a 
semi-lunatic  ;  when  a  member  of  our  family  spends  an 
hour  or  two  a  day  in  devotional  exercises,  we  condemn 
it  as  waste  of  time  which  might  be  better  spent  on 
practical  charities  or  household  duties. 

Most  liable  of  all  to  this  vice  of  misjudging  the 
actions  of  others,  and  indeed  of  misapprehending 
generally  wherein  the  real  value  of  life  consists,  are 
those  who,  like  Judas,  measure  all  things  by  a  utilitarian, 
if  not  a  money,  standard.  Actions  which  have  no  imme- 
diate results  are  pronounced  by  such  persons  to  be 
jnere  sentiment  and  waste,  while  in  fact  they  redeem 


THE  GOSPElL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 


human  nature  and  make  life  seem  worth  living.  The 
charge  of  the  Light  Brigade  at  Balaclava  served  none 
of  the  immediate  purposes  of  the  battle,  and  was  indeed 
a  blunder  and  waste  from  that  point  of  view ;  yet  are 
not  our  annals  enriched  by  it  as  they  have  been  by  few 
victories  ?  On  the  Parthenon  there  were  figures  placed 
with  their  backs  hard  against  the  wall  of  the  pediment ; 
these  backs  were  never  seen  and  were  not  intended  to 
be  seen,  but  yet  were  carved  with  the  same  care  as 
was  spent  upon  the  front  of  the  figures.  Was  that 
care  waste  ?  There  are  thousands  of  persons  in  our 
own  society  who  think  it  essential  to  teach  their  children 
arithmetic,  but  pernicious  to  instil  into  their  minds  a 
love  of  poetry  or  art.  They  judge  of  education  by  the 
test,  Will  it  pay  ?  can  this  attainment  be  turned  into 
money  ?  The  other  question,  Will  it  enrich  the  nature 
of  the  child  and  of  the  man  ?  is  not  asked.  They 
proceed  as  if  they  believed  that  the  man  is  made  for 
business,  not  business  for  the  man  ;  and  thus  it  comes 
to  pass  that  everywhere  among  us  men  are  found 
sacrificed  to  business,  stunted  in  their  moral  develop- 
ment, shut  off  from  the  deeper  things  of  life.  The 
pursuits  which  such  persons  condemn  are  the  very 
things  which  lift  life  out  of  the  low  level  of  common- 
place buying  and  selling,  and  invite  us  to  remember 
that  man  liveth  not  by  bread  alone,  but  by  high 
thoughts,  by  noble  sacrifice,  by  devoted  love  and  all 
that  love  dictates,  by  the  powers  of  the  unseen, 
mightier  by  far  than  all  that  we  see. 

In  the  face,  then,  of  so  much  that  runs  counter  to 
such  demonstrations  as  Mary's  and  condemns  them  as 
extravagance,  it  is  important  to  note  the  principles  upon 
which  our  Lord  proceeds  in  His  justification  of  her 
action. 


xii.  i-ii.]  THE  ANOINTING   OF  JESUS.  9 

First,  He  says,  this  is  an  occasional,  exceptional 
tribute.  "  The  poor  always  ye  have  with  you,  but  me 
ye  have  not  always."  Charity  to  the  poor  you  may- 
continue  from  day  to  day  all  your  life  long :  whatever 
you  spend  on  me  is  spent  once  for  all.  You  need  not 
think  the  poor  defrauded  by  this  expenditure.  Within 
a  few  days  I  shall  be  beyond  all  such  tokens  of  regard, 
and  the  poor  will  still  claim  your  sympathy.  This 
principle  solves  for  us  some  social  and  domestic  pro- 
blems. Of  many  expenses  common  in  society,  and 
especially  of  expenses  connected  with  scenes  such  as 
this  festive  gathering  at  Bethany,  the  question  always 
arises.  Is  this  expenditure  justifiable  ?  When  present 
at  an  entertainment  costing  as  much  and  doing  as  little 
material  good  as  the  spikenard  whose  perfume  had  died 
before  the  guests  separated,  we  cannot  but  ask,  Is  not 
this,  after  all,  mere  waste  ?  had  it  not  been  better  to 
have  given  the  value  to  the  poor  ?  The  hunger-bitten 
faces,  the  poverty-stricken  outcasts,  we  have  seen  during 
the  day  are  suggested  to  us  by  the  superabundance 
now  before  us.  The  effort  to  spend  most  where  least 
IS  needed  suggests  to  us,  as  to  these  guests  at  Bethany, 
gaunt,  pinched,  sickly  faces,  bare  rooms,  cold  grates, 
feeble,  dull-eyed  children — in  a  word,  starving  families 
who  might  be  kept  for  weeks  together  on  what  is  here 
spent  in  a  few  minutes ;  and  the  question  is  inevitable, 
Is  this  right  ?  Can  it  be  right  to  spend  a  man's  ransom 
on  a  mere  good  smell,  while  at  the  end  of  the  street  a 
widow  is  pining  with  hunger  ?  Our  Lord  replies  that 
so  long  as  one  is  day  by  day  considering  the  poor 
and  relieving  their  necessities,  he  need  not  grudge  an 
occasional  outlay  to  manifest  his  regard  for  his  friends. 
The  poor  of  Bethany  would  probably  appeal  to  Mary 
much  more  hopefully  than  to  Judas,  and   they  would 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


appeal  all  the  more  successfully  because  her  heart  had 
been  allowed  to  utter  itself  thus  to  Jesus.  There  is,  of 
course,  an  expenditure  for  display  under  the  guise  of 
friendship.  Such  expenditure  finds  no  justification  here 
or  any  where  •  else.  But  those  who  in  a  practical  way 
acknowledge  the  perpetual  presence  of  the  poor  are 
justified  in  the  occasional  outlay  demanded  by  friend- 
ship. 

2.  But  our  Lord's  defence  of  Mary  is  of  wider  range. 
"Let  her  alone,"  He  says,  "against  the  day  of  my 
burying  hath  she  kept  this."  It  was  not  only  occa- 
sional, exceptional  tribute  she  had  paid  Him ;  it  was 
solitary,  never  to  be  repeated.  Against  my  burial  she 
has  kept  this  unguent ;  for  me  ye  have  not  always. 
Would  you  blame  Mary  for  spending  this,  were  I  lying 
in  my  tomb  ?  Would  you  call  it  too  costly  a  tribute, 
were  it  the  last?  Well,  it  is  the  last.^  Such  is  our 
Lord's  justification  of  her  action.  Was  Mary  herself 
conscious  that  this  was  a  parting  tribute  ?  It  is  possible 
that  her  love  and  womanly  instinct  had  revealed  to  her 
the  nearness  of  that  death  of  which  Jesus  Himself  so 
often  spoke,  but  which  the  disciples  refused  to  think  of. 
She  may  have  felt  that  this  was  the  last  time  she  would 
have  an  opportunity  of  expressing  her  devotion.  Drawn 
to  Him  with  unutterable  tenderness,  with  admiration, 
gratitude,  anxiety  mingling  in  her  heart,  she  hastens 
to  spend  upon  Him  her  costliest.  Passing  away  from 
her  world  she  knows  He  is ;  buried  so  far  as  she  was 
concerned  she  knew  Him  to  be  if  He  was  to  keep  the 
Passover  at  Jerusalem  in  the  midst  of  His  enemies. 
Had  the  others  felt  with  her,  none  could  have  grudged 
her  the  last  consolation  of  this  utterance  of  her  love,  or 

'  So  Stier. 


xii.  i-ii.]  THE  ANOINTING   OF  JESUS.  II 

have  grudged  Him  the  consolation  of  receiving  it.  For 
this  made  Him  strong  to  die,  this  among  other  motives — 
the  knowledge  that  His  love  and  sacrifice  were  not  in 
vain,  that  He  had  won  human  hearts,  and  that  in  their 
affection  He  would  survive.  This  is  His  true  embalm- 
ing. This  it  is  that  forbids  that  His  flesh  see  corruption, 
that  His  earthly  manifestation  die  out  and  be  forgotten. 
To  die  before  He  had  attached  to  Himself  friends  as 
passionate  in  their  devotion  as  Mary  would  have  been 
premature.  The  recollection  of  His  work  might  have 
been  lost.  But  when  He  had  won  men  like  John  and 
women  like  Mary,  He  could  die  assured  that  His  name 
would  never  be  lost  from  earth.  The  breaking  of  the 
alabaster  box,  the  pouring  out  of  Mary's  soul  in  adora- 
tion of  her  Lord — this  was  the  signal  that  all  was  ripe 
for  His  departure,  this  the  proof  that  His  manifestation 
had  done  its  work.  The  love  of  His  own  had  come  to 
maturity  and  burst  thus  into  flower.  Jesus  therefore 
recognises  in  this  act  His  true  embalming. 

And  it  is  probably  from  this  point  of  view  that 
we  may  most  readily  see  the  appropriateness  of  that 
singular  commendation  and  promise  which  our  Lord, 
according  to  the  other  gospels,  added  :  "  Verily  I  say 
unto  you,  wherever  this  gospel  shall  be  preached 
throughout  the  whole  world,  this  also  that  she  hath 
done  shall  be  spoken  for  a  memorial  of  her." 

At  first  sight  the  encomium  might  seem  as  extrava- 
gant as  the  action.  Was  there,  a  Judas  might  ask, 
anything  deserving  of  immortality  in  the  sacrifice  of  a 
few  pounds  ?  But  no  such  measurements  are  admis- 
sible here.  The  encomium  was  deserved  because  the 
act  was  the  irrepressible  utterance  of  all-absorbing 
love — of  a  love  so  full,  so  rich,  so  rare  that  even  the 
ordinary  disciples  of  Christ  were  at  first  not  in  perfect 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


sympathy  with  it.  The  absolute  devotedness  of  her 
love  found  a  fit  symbol  in  the  alabaster  box  or  vase 
which  she  had  to  break  that  the  ointment  might  flow 
out.  It  was  not  a  bottle  out  of  which  she  might  take 
the  stopper  and  let  a  carefully  measured  quantity 
dribble  out,  reserving  the  rest  for  other  and  perhaps 
very  different  uses — fit  symbol  of  our  love  to  Christ ; 
but  it  was  a  hermetically  sealed  casket  or  flask,  out 
of  which,  if  she  let  one  drop  fall,  the  whole  must  go. 
It  had  to  be  broken ;  it  had  to  be  devoted  to  one  sole 
use.  It  could  not  be  in  part  reserved  or  in  part 
diverted  to  other  uses.  Where  you  have  such  love  as 
this,  have  you  not  the  highest  thing  humanity  can 
produce  ?  Where  is  it  now  to  be  had  on  earth,  where 
are  we  to  look  for  this  all-devoting,  unreserving  love, 
which  gathers  up  all  its  possessions  and  pours  them 
out  at  Christ's  feet,  saying,  "Take  all,  would  it  were 
more  "  ? 

The  encomium,  therefore,  was  deserved  and  appro- 
priate. In  her  love  the  Lord  would  ever  live  :  so  long 
as  she  existed  the  remembrance  of  Him  could  not  die. 
No  death  could  touch  her  heart  with  his  chilly  hand 
and  freeze  the  warmth  of  her  devotion.  Christ  was 
immortal  in  her,  and  she  was  therefore  immortal  in 
Him.  Her  love  was  a  bond  that  could  not  be  broken, 
the  truest  spiritual  union.  In  embalming  Him,  there- 
fore, she  unconsciously  embalmed  herself.  Her  love 
was  the  amber  in  which  He  was  to  be  preserved,  and 
she  became  inviolable  as  He.  Her  love  was  the  marble 
on  which  His  name  and  worth  were  engraven,  on 
which  His  image  was  deeply  sculptured,  and  they  were 
to  live  and  last  together.  Christ  "  prolongs  His  days  " 
in  the  loye  of  His  people.  In  every  generation  there 
arise  those  who  will  not  let  His  remembrance  die  out, 


xii.  i-ii.]  THE  ANOINTING  OF  JESUS.  13 

and  who  to  their  own  necessities  call  out  the  living 
energy  of  Christ.  In  so  doing  they  unwittingly  make 
themselves  undying  as  He ;  their  love  of  Him  is  the 
little  spark  of  immortality  in  their  soul.  It  is  that 
which  indissolubly  and  by  the  only  genuine  spiritual 
affinity  links  them  to  what  is  eternal.  To  all  who  thus 
love  Him  Christ  cannot  but  say,  "  Because  I  live,  ye 
shall  live  also." 

Another  point  in  our  Lord's  defence  of  Mary's 
conduct,  though  it  is  not  explicitly  asserted,  plainly  is, 
that  tributes  of  affection  paid  directly  to  Himself  are 
of  value  to  Him.  Judas  might  with  some  plausibility 
have  quoted  against  our  Lord  His  own  teaching  that  an 
act  of  kindness  done  to  the  poor  was  kindness  to  Him. 
It  might  be  said  that,  on  our  Lord's  own  showing,  what 
He  desires  is,  ruDt  homage  paid  to  Himself  personally, 
but  loving  and  merciful  conduct.  And  certainly  any 
homage  paid  to  Himself  which  is  not  accompanied  by 
such  conduct  is  of  no  value  at  all.  But  as  love  to 
Him  is  the  spring  and  regulator  of  all  right  conduct,  it 
is  necessary  that  we  should  cultivate  this  love;  and 
because  He  delights  in  our  well-being  and  in  ourselves, 
and  does  not  look  upon  us  merely  as  so  much  material 
in  which  He  may  exhibit  His  healing  powers.  He 
necessarily  rejoices  in  every  expression  of  true  devoted- 
ness  that  is  paid  to  Him  by  any  of  us. 

And  on  our  side  wherever  there  is  true  and  ardent 
love  it  must  crave  direct  expression.  "  If  ye  love 
me,"  says  our  Lord,  "  keep  my  commandments  " ;  and 
obedience  certainly  is  the  normal  test  and  exhibition  of 
love.  But  there  is  that  in  our  nature  which  refuses 
to  be  satisfied  with  obedience,  which  craves  fellowship 
with  what  we  love,  which  carries  us  out  of  ourselves 
and  compels  us  to  express  our  feeling  directly.     And 


14  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

that  soul  is  not  fully  developed  whose  pent-up  gratitude, 
cherished  admiration,  and  warm  aflfection  do  not  from 
time  to  time  break  away  from  all  ordinary  modes  of 
expressing  devotion  and  choose  some  such  direct 
method  as  Mary  chose,  or  some  such  straightforward 
utterance  as  Peter's :  "  Lord,  Thou  knowest  all  things. 
Thou  knowest  that  I  love  Thee." 

It  may,  indeed,  occur  to  us,  as  we  read  of  Mary's 
tribute  to  her  Lord,  that  the  very  words  in  which  He 
justified  her  action  forbid  our  supposing  that  any  so 
grateful  tribute  can  be  paid  Him  by  us.  "  Me  ye  have 
not  always "  may  seem  to  warn  us  against  expecting 
that  so  direct  and  satisfying  an  intercourse  can  be 
maintained  now,  when  we  no  longer  have  Him.  And 
no  doubt  this  is  one  of  the  standing  difficulties  of 
Christian  experience.  We  can  love  those  who  live 
with  us,  whose  eye  we  can  meet,  whose  voice  we  know, 
whose  expression  of  face  we  can  read.  We  feel  it 
easy  to  fix  'our  affections  on  one  and  another  of  those 
who  are  alive  contemporaneously  with  ourselves.  But 
with  Christ  it  is  different :  we  miss  those  sensible  im- 
pressions made  upon  us  by  the  living  bodily  presence ; 
we  find  it  difficult  to  retain  in  the  mind  a  settled  idea 
of  the  feeling  He  has  towards  us.  It  is  an  effort  to 
accomplish  by  faith  what  sight  without  any  eff'ort 
effectually  accomplishes.  We  do  not  see  that  He  loves 
us ;  the  looks  and  tones  that  chiefly  reveal  human  love 
are  absent ;  we  are  not  from  hour  to  hour  confronted, 
whether  we  will  or  no,  with  one  evidence  or  other  of 
love.  Were  the  life  of  a  Christian  nowadays  no  more 
difficult  than  it  was  to  Mary,  were  it  brightened  with 
Christ's  presence  as  a  household  friend,  were  the  whole 
sum  and  substance  of  it  merely  a  giving  way  to  the 
love  He  kindled  by  palpable  favours  and  measurable 


xii.  i-ii.]  THE  ANOINTING  OF  JESUS.  15 

friendship,  then  surely  the  Christian  life  would  be  a 
very  simple,  very  easy,  very  happy  course. 

But  the  connection  between  ourselves  and  Christ  is 
not  of  the  body  that  passes,  but  of  the  spirit  which 
endures.  It  is  spiritual,  and  such  a  connection  may  be 
seriously  perverted  by  the  interference  of  sense  and  of 
bodily  sensations.  To  measure  the  love  of  Christ  by 
His  expression  of  face  and  by  His  tone  of  voice  is 
legitimate,  but  it  is  not  the  truest  measurement :  to  be 
drawn  to  Him  by  the  accidental  kindnesses  our  present 
difficulties  must  provoke  is  to  be  drawn  by  something 
short  of  perfect  spiritual  affinity.  And,  on  the  whole, 
it  is  well  that  our  spirit  should  be  allowed  to  choose 
its  eternal  friendship  and  alliance  by  what  is  specially 
and  exclusively  its  own,  so  that  its  choice  cannot  be 
mistaken,  as  the  choice  sometimes  is  when  there  is  a 
mixture  of  physical  and  spiritual  attractiveness.  So 
much  are  we  guided  in  youth  and  in  the  whole  of  our 
life  by  what  is  material,  so  freely  do  we  allow  our 
tastes  to  be  determined  and  our  character  to  be  formed 
by  our  connection  with  what  is  material,  that  the  whole 
"man  gets  blunted  in  his  spiritual  perceptions  and 
incapable  of  appreciating  what  is  not  seen.  And  the 
great  part  of  our  education  in  this  life  is  to  lift  the 
spirit  to  its  true  place  and  to  its  appropriate  company, 
to  teach  it  to  measure  its  gains  apart  from  material 
prosperity,  and  to  train  it  to  love  with  ardour  what 
cannot  be  seen. 

Besides,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  this  incident  itself 
very  plainly  teaches  that  Christ  came  into  this  world  to 
win  our  love  and  to  turn  all  duty  into  a  personal  acting 
towards  Him ;  to  make  the  whole  of  life  like  those  parts 
of  it  which  are  now  its  bright  exceptional  holiday  times  ; 
to  make  all  of  it  a  pleasure  by  making  all  of  it  and  not 


i6  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

merely  parts  of  it  the  utterance  of  love.  Even  a  little 
love  in  our  life  is  the  sunshine  that  quickens  and  warms 
and  brightens  the  whole.  There  seems  at  length  to  be 
a  reason  and  a  satisfaction  in  life  when  love  animates 
us.  It  is  easy  to  act  well  to  those  whom  we  really 
love,  and  Christ  has  come  for  the  express  purpose  of 
bringing  our  whole  life  within  this  charmed  circle.  He 
has  come  not  to  bring  constraint  and  gloom  into  our 
lives,  but  to  let  us  out  into  the  full  liberty  and  joy  of  the 
life  that  God  Himself  lives  and  judges  to  be  the  only 
life  worthy  of  His  bestowal  upon  us. 


II. 

THE  ENTRY  INTO  JERUSALEM. 


VOL.    11.  17 


"  On  the  morrow  a  great  multitude  that  had  come  to  the  feast,  when 
they  heard  that  Jesus  was  coming  to  Jerusalem,  took  the  branches  of 
the  palm  trees,  and  went  forth  to  meet  Him,  and  cried  out,  Hosanna  : 
Blessed  is  He  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  even  the  King  of 
Israel.  And  Jesus,  having  found  a  young  ass,  sat  thereon  ;  as  it  is 
written,  Fear  not,  daughter  of  Zion  :  behold,  thy  King  cometh,  sitting 
on  an  ass's  colt.  These  things  understood  not  His  disciples  at  the  first  : 
but  when  Jesus  was  glorified,  then  remembered  they  that  these  things 
were  written  of  Him,  and  that  they  had  done  these  things  unto  Him. 
The  multitude  therefore  that  was  with  Him  w^hen  He  called  Lazarus 
out  of  the  tomb,  and  raised  him  from  the  dead,  bare  witness.  For  this 
cause  also  the  multitude  went  and  met  Him,  for  that  they  heard  that 
He  had  done  this  sign.  The  Pharisees  therefore  said  among  them- 
selves, Behold,  how  ye  prevail  nothing  :  lo,  the  world  is  gone  after 
Him." — John  xii.  12-iy. 


tS 


II. 

THE  ENTRY  INTO  JERUSALEM. 

IF  our  Lord  arrived  in  Bethany  on  Friday  evening 
and  spent  the  Sabbath  with  His  friends  there,  "  the 
next  day"  of  ver.  12  is  Sunday;  and  in  the  Church 
year  this  day  is  known  as  Palm  Sunday,  from  the 
incident  here  related.  It  was  also  the  day,  four  days 
before  the  Passover,  on  which  the  Jews  were  enjoined 
by  the  law  to  choose  their  paschal  lamb.  Some  con- 
sciousness of  this  may  have  guided  our  Lord's  action. 
Certainly  He  means  finally  to  offer  Himself  to  the 
people  as  the  Messiah.  Often  as  He  had  evaded  them 
.before,  and  often  as  He  had  forbidden  His  disciples  to 
proclaim  Him,  He  is  now  conscious  that  His  hour  has 
come,  and  by  entering  Jerusalem  as  King  of  peace  He 
definitely  proclaims  Himself  the  promised  Messiah. 
As  plainly  as  the  crowning  of  a  new  monarch  and  the 
flourish  of  trumpets  and  the  kissing  of  his  hand  by  the 
great  officers  of  state  proclaim  him  king,  so  unmistak- 
ably does  our  Lord  by  riding  into  Jerusalem  on  an  ass 
and  by  accepting  the  hosannas  of  the  people  proclaim 
Himself  the  King  promised  to  men  through  the  Jews, 
as  the  King  of  peace  who  was  to  win  men  to  His  rule 
by  love  and  sway  them  by  a  Divine  Spirit. 

The  scene  must  have  been  one  not  easily  forgotten. 
The  Mount  of  Olives  runs  north  and  south  parallel  to 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


the  east  wall  of  Jerusalem,  and  separated  from  it  by 
a  gully,  through  which  flows  the  brook  Kidron.  The 
Mount  is  crossed  by  three  paths.  One  of  these  is  a 
steep  footpath,  which  runs  direct  over  the  crest  of  the 
hill ;  the  second  runs  round  its  northern  shoulder ; 
while  the  third  crosses  the  southern  slope.  It  was  by 
this  last  route  the  pilgrim  caravans  were  accustomed 
to  enter  the  city.  On  the  occasion  of  our  Lord's  entry 
the  road  was  probably  thronged  with  visitors  making 
their  way  to  the  great  annual  feast.  No  fewer  than 
three  million  persons  are  said  to  have  been  sometimes 
packed  together  in  Jerusalem  at  the  Passover ;  and  all 
of  them  being  on  holiday,  were  ready  for  any  kind  of 
excitement.  The  idea  of  a  festal  procession  was  quite 
to  their  mind.  And  no  sooner  did  the  disciples  appear 
with  Jesus  riding  in  their  midst  than  the  vast  streams 
of  people  caught  the  infection  of  loyal  enthusiasm,  tore 
down  bi:anches  of  the  palms  and  olives  which  were 
found  in  abundance  by  the  roadside,  and  either  waved 
them  in  the  air  or  strewed  them  in  the  line  of  march. 
Others  unwrapped  their  loose  cloaks  from  their 
shoulders  and  spread  them  along  the  rough  path  to 
form  a  carpet  as  He  approached — a  custom  which  is 
still,  it  seems,  observed  in  the  East  in  royal  processions, 
and  which  has  indeed  sometimes  been  imported  into 
our  own  country  on  great  occasions.  Thus  with  every 
demonstration  of  loyalty,  with  ceaseless  shoutings  that 
were  heard  across  the  valley  in  the  streets  of  Jerusalem 
itself,  and  waving  the  palm  branches,  they  moved 
towards  the  city. 

Those  who  have  entered  the  city  from  Bethany  by 
this  road  tell  us  that  there  are  two  striking  points  in  it. 
The  first  is  when  at  a  turn  of  the  broad  and  well- 
defined  mountain  track  the  southern  portion  of  the  city 


xii.  12-19.]        THE  ENTRY  INTO  JERUSALEM.  21 

comes  for  an  instant  into  view.  This  part  of  the  city 
was  called  "  the  city  of  David,"  and  the  suggestion  is 
not  without  probability  that  it  may  have  been  at  this 
point  the  multitude  burst  out  in  words  that  linked 
Jesus  with  David.  "  Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David. 
Blessed  is  the  King  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord.  Blessed  is  the  kingdom  of  our  father  David. 
Hosanna,  peace  and  glory  in  the  highest."  This 
became  the  watchword  of  the  day,  so  that  even  the 
boys  who  had  come  out  of  the  city  to  see  the  proces- 
sion were  heard  afterwards,  as  they  loitered  in  the 
streets,  still  shouting  the  same  refrain. 

After  this  the  road  again  dips,  and  the  glimpse  of  the 
city  is  lost  behind  the  intervening  ridge  of  Olivet ;  but 
shortly  a  rugged  ascent  is  climbed  and  a  ledge  of  bare 
rock  is  reached,  -  and  in  an  instant  the  whole  city 
bursts  into  view.  The  prospect  from  this  point  must 
have  been  one  of  the  grandest  of  its  kind  in  the  world, 
the  fine  natural  position  of  Jerusalem  not  only  showing 
to  advantage,  but  the  long  line  of  city  wall  embracing, 
like  the  setting  of  a  jewel,  the  marvellous  structures  of 
Herod,  the  poHshed  marble  and  the  gilded  pinnacles 
glittering  in  the  morning  sun  and  dazzling  the  eye.  It 
was  in  all  probability  at  this  point  that  our  Lord  was 
overcome  with  regret  when  He  considered  the  sad  fate 
of  the  beautiful  city,  and  when  in  place  of  the  smiling 
palaces  and  apparently  impregnable  walls  His  imagina- 
tion filled  His  eye  with  smoke-blackened  ruins,  with 
pavements  slippery  with  blood,  with  walls  breached  at 
all  points  and  choked  with  rotting  corpses. 

Our  Lord's  choice  of  the  ass  was  significant.  The 
ass  was  commonly  used  for  riding,  and  the  well-cared-for 
ass  of  the  rich  man  was  a  very  fine  animal,  much  larger 
and  stronger  than  the  little  breed  with  which  we  are 


THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


familiar.  Its  coat,  too,  is  as  glossy  as  a  well-kept  horse's 
— "  shiny  black,  or  satiny  white,  or  sleek  mouse  colour." 
It  was  not  chosen  by  our  Lord  at  this  time  that  He 
might  show  His  humility,  for  it  would  have  been  still 
humbler  to  walk  like  His  disciples.  So  far  from  being 
a  token  of  humility.  He  chose  a  colt  which  apparently 
had  never  borne  another  rider.  He  rather  meant  by 
claiming  the  ass  and  by  riding  into  Jerusalem  upon  it 
to  assert  His  royalty ;  but  He  did  not  choose  a  horse, 
because  that  animal  would  have  suggested  royalty  of 
quite  another  kind  from  His — royalty  which  was  main- 
tained by  war  and  outward  force ;  for  the  horse  and  the 
chariot  had  always  been  among  the  Hebrews  symbolic 
of  warlike  force.  The  disciples  themselves,  strangely 
enough,  did  not  see  the  significance  of  this  action, 
although,  when  they  had  time  to  reflect  upon  it,  they 
remembered  that  Zechariah  had  said  :  "  Rejoice  greatly, 
O  daughter  of  Zion  ;  shout,  O  daughter  of  Jerusalem  : 
behold,  fhy  King  cometh  unto  thee  :  He  is  just,  and 
having  salvation  ;  lowly,  and  riding  upon  an  ass,  and 
upon  a  colt  the  foal  of  an  ass.  And  I  will  cut  off  the 
chariot  from  Ephraim,  and  the  horse  from  Jerusalem, 
and  the  battle  bow  shall  be  cut  off:  and  He  shall  speak 
peace  unto  the  heathen.*' 

When  John  says,  "  these  things  understood  not  His 
disciples  at  the  first,"  he  cannot  mean  that  they  did 
not  understand  that  Jesus  by  this  act  claimed  to  be  the 
Messiah,  because  even  the  mob  perceived  the  signifi- 
cance of  this  entry  into  Jerusalem  and  hailed  Him 
"  Son  of  David."  What  they  did  not  understand, 
probably,  was  why  He  chose  this  mode  of  identifying 
Himself  with  the  Messiah.  At  any  rate,  their  per- 
plexity brings  out  very  clearly  that  the  conception  was 
not  suggested  to  Jesus.     He  was  not  induced  by  the 


xii.  12-19]         THE  ENTRY  INTO  JERUSALEM.  23 

disciples  nor  led  on  by  the  people  to  make  a  demon- 
stration which  He  Himself  scarcely  approved  or  had 
not  intended  to  make.  On  the  contrary,  from  His  first 
recorded  act  that  morning  He  had  taken  command  of 
the  situation.  Whatever  was  done  was  done  with 
deliberation,  at  His  own  instance  and  as  His  own 
act.^ 

This  then  in  the  first  place  ;  it  was  His  own  deli- 
berate act.  He  put  Himself  forward,  knowing  that  He 
would  receive  the  hosannas  of  the  people,  and  intend- 
ing that  He  should  receive  them.  All  His  backwardness 
is  gone  ;  all  shyness  of  becoming  a  public  spectacle  is 
gone.  For  this  also  is  to  be  noted — that  no  place  or 
occasion  could  have  been  more  public  than  the  Pass- 
over at  Jerusalem.  Whatever  it  was  He  meant  to 
indicate  by  His  action,  it  was  to  the  largest  possible 
public  He  meant  to  indicate  it.  No  longer  in  the  retire- 
ment of  a  Galilean  village,  nor  in  a  fisherman's  cottage, 
nor  in  dubious  or  ambiguous  terms,  but  in  the  full 
blaze  of  the  utmost  publicity  that  could  possibly  be 
given  to  His  proclamation,  and  in  language  that  could 
not  be  forgotten  or  misinterpreted.  He  now  declared 
Himself.  He  knew  He  must  attract  the  attention  of 
the  authorities,  and  His  entrance  was  a  direct  challenge 
to  them. 

What  was  it  then  that  with  such  deliberation  and 
such  publicity  He  meant  to  proclaim  ?  What  was  it 
that  in  these  last  critical  hours  of  His  life,  when  He 
knew  He  should  have  few  more  opportunities  of  speak- 
ing to  the  people.  He  sought  to  impress  upon  them  ? 
What  was  it  that,  when  free  from  the  solicitations  of 


'  This  is  more  distinctly  brought  out  in  the  Synoptic  Gospels  than  in 
St.  John  :  cp.  Mark  xi.  i-io. 


24  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

men  and  the  pressure  of  circumstances,  He  sought  to 
declare?  It  was  that  He  was  the  Messiah.  There 
might  be  those  in  the  crowd  who  did  not  understand 
what  was  meant.  There  might  be  persons  who  did  not 
know  Him,  or  who  were  incompetent  judges  of  cha- 
racter, and  supposed  He  was  a  mere  enthusiast  carried 
away  by  dweUing  too  much  on  some  one  aspect  of  Old 
Testament  prophecy.  In  every  generation  there  are 
good  men  who  become  almost  crazed  upon  some  one 
topic,  and  sacrifice  everything  to  the  promotion  of  one 
favourite  hope.  But  however  He  might  be  misjudged, 
there  can  be  no  question  of  His  own  idea  of  the  signi- 
ficance of  His  action.     He  claims  to  be  the  Messiah. 

Such  a  claim  is  the  most  stupendous  that  could  be 
made.  To  be  the  Messiah  is  to  be  God's  Viceroy  and 
Representative  on  earth,  able  to  represent  God  ade- 
quately to  men,  and  to  bring  about  that  perfect  con- 
dition which  is  named  "the  kingdom  of  God."  The 
Messiah  must  be  conscious  of  ability  perfectly  to  accom- 
plish the  will  of  God  with  man,  and  to  bring  men  into 
absolute  harmony  with  God.  This  is  claimed  by  Jesus. 
He  stands  in  His  sober  senses  and  claims  to  be  that 
universal  Sovereign,  that  true  King  of  men,  whom  the 
Jews  had  been  encouraged  to  expect^  and  who  when 
He  came  would  reign  over  Gentiles  as  well  as  Jews. 
By  this  demonstration,  to  which  His  previous  career 
had  been  naturally  leading  up,  He  claims  to  take  com- 
mand of  earth,  of  this  world  in  all  its  generations,  not 
in  the  easier  sense  of  laying  down  upon  paper  a  political 
constitution  fit  for  all  races,  but  in  the  sense  of  being 
able  to  deliver  mankind  from  the  source  of  all  their 
misery  and  to  lift  men  to  a  true  superiority.  He  has 
gone  about  on  earth,  not  secluding  Himself  from  the 
woes  and  ways  of  men,  not  delicately  isolating  Himself, 


xii.  12-19.]         THE  ENTRY  INTO  JERUSALEM.  25 

but  exposing  Himself  freely  to  the  touch  of  the  malig- 
nities, the  vulgarities,  the  ignorance  and  wickedness  of 
all ;  and  He  now  claims  to  rule  all  this,  and  implies  that 
earth  can  present  no  complication  of  distress  or  iniquity 
which  he  cannot  by  the  Divine  forces  within  Him 
transform  into  health  and  purity  and  hope. 

This  then  is  His  deliberate  claim.  He  quietly  but 
distinctly  proclaims  that  He  fulfils  all  God's  promise 
and  purpose  among  men ;  is  that  promised  King  who 
was  to  rectify  all  things,  to  unite  men  to  Himself,  and 
to  lead  them  on  to  their  true  destiny ;  to  be  practically 
God  upon  earth,  accessible  to  men  and  identified  with 
all  human  interests.  Many  have  tested  His  claim  and 
have  proved  its  validity.  By  true  allegiance  to  Him 
many  have  found  that  they  have  gained  the  mastery 
over  the  world.  -  They  have  entered  into  peace,  have 
felt  eternal  verities  underneath  their  feet,  and  have 
attained  a  connection  with  God  such  as  must  be  ever- 
lasting. They  are  filled  with  a  new  spirit  towards  men 
and  see  all  things  with  purged  eyes.  Not  abruptly  and 
unintelligibly,  by  leaps  and  bounds,  but  gradually  and 
in  harmony  with  the  nature  of  things.  His  kingdom  is 
extending.  Already  His  Spirit  has  done  much  :  in  time 
His  Spirit  will  everywhere  prevail.  It  is  by  Him  and 
on  the  lines  which  He  has  laid  down  that  humanity  is 
advancing  to  its  goal. 

This  was  the  claim  He  made;  and  this  claim  was 
enthusiastically  admitted  by  the  popular  instinct.^  The 
populace  was  not  merely  humouring  in  holiday  mood 
a  whimsical  person  for  their  own  diversion.  Many  of 
them  knew  Lazarus  and  knew  Jesus,  and  taking  the 


'  According  to  the  reading  of  the  scene  by  St.  John,  the  people  needed 
no  prompting. 


26  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

matter  seriously  gave  the  tone  to  the  rest.  The  people 
indeed  did  not,  any  more  than  the  disciples,  understand 
how  different  the  kingdom  of  their  expectation  was 
from  the  kingdom  Jesus  meant  to  found.  But  while 
they  entirely  misapprehended  the  purpose  for  which 
He  was  sent,  they  believed  that  He  was  sent  by  God  : 
His  credentials  were  absolutely  satisfactory,  His  work 
incomprehensible.  But  as  yet  they  still  thought  He 
must  be  of  the  same  mind  as  themselves  regarding 
the  work  of  the  Messiah.  To  His  claim,  therefore,  the 
response  given  by  the  people  was  loud  and  demonstra- 
tive. It  was  indeed  a  very  brief  reign  they  accorded 
to  their  King,  but  their  prompt  acknowledgment  of 
Him  was  the  instinctive  and  irrepressible  expression 
of  what  they  really  felt  to  be  His  due.  A  popular 
demonstration  is  notoriously  untrustworthy,  always 
running  to  extremes,  necessarily  uttering  itself  with 
a  loudness  far  in  excess  of  individual  conviction,  and 
gathering  fo  itself  the  loose  and  floating  mass  of  people 
who  have  no  convictions  of  their  own,  and  are  thankful 
to  any  one  who  leads  them  and  gives  them  a  cue,  and 
helps  them  to  feel  that  they  have  after  all  a  place  in 
the  community.  Who  has  not  stood  by  as  an  onlooker 
at  a  public  demonstration  and  smiled  at  the  noise  and 
glare  that  a  mass  of  people  will  produce  when  their 
feelings  are  ever  so  little  stirred,  and  marked  how 
even  against  their  own  individual  sentiments  they  are 
carried  away  by  the  mere  tide  of  the  day's  circumstances, 
and  for  the  mere  sake  of  making  a  demonstration  ? 
This  crowd  which  followed  our  Lord  with  shoutings 
very  speedily  repented  and  changed  their  shouts  into 
a  far  blinder  shriek  of  rage  against  Him  who  had  been 
the  occasion  of  their  folly.  And  it  must  indeed  have 
been  a  humbling  experience  for  our  Lord  to  have  Him- 


xii.  12-19.]         THE   ENTRY  INTO  JERUSALEM.  27 

self  ushered  into  Jerusalem  by  a  crowd  through  whose 
hosannas  He  already  heard  the  mutter  of  their  curses. 
Such  is  the  homage  He  has  to  content  Himself  with — 
such  is  the  homage  a  perfect  life  has  won. 

For  He  knew  what  was  in  man ;  and  while  His 
disciples  might  be  deceived  by  this  popular  response 
to  His  claim,  He  Himself  was  fully  aware  how  little  it 
could  be  built  upon.  Save  in  His  own  heart,  there  is 
no  premonition  of  death.  More  than  ever  in  His  life 
before  does  His  sky  seem  bright  without  a  cloud.  He 
Himself  is  in  His  early  prime  with  life  before  Him ; 
His  followers  are  hopeful,  the  multitude  jubilant ;  but 
through  all  this  gay  enthusiasm  He  sees  the  scowling 
hate  of  the  priests  and  scribes ;  the  shouting  of  the 
multitude  does  not  drown  in  His  ear  the  mutterings 
of  a  Judas  and  of  the  Sanhedrim.  He  knew  that  the 
throne  He  was  now  hailed  to  was  the  cross,  that  His 
coronation  was  the  reception  on  His  own  brows  of  all 
the  thorns  and  stings  and  burdens  that  man's  sin  had 
brought  into  the  world.  He  did  not  fancy  that  the 
redemption  of  the  world  to  God  was  an  easy  matter 
which  could  be  accomplished  by  an  afternoon's  enthu- 
siasm. He  kept  steadily  before  His  mind  the  actual 
condition  of  the  men  who  were  by  His  spiritual  influence 
to  become  the  willing  and  devoted  subjects  of  God's 
kingdom.  He  measured  with  accuracy  the  forces  against 
Him,  and  understood  that  His  warfare  was  not  with  the 
legions  of  Rome,  against  whom  this  Jewish  patriotism 
and  indomitable  courage  and  easily  roused  enthusiasm 
might  tell,  but  with  principalities  and  powers  a  thousand- 
fold stronger,  with  the  demons  of  hatred  and  jealousy, 
of  lust  and  worldliness,  of  carnality  and  selfishness. 
Never  for  a  moment  did  He  forget  His  true  mission 
and  sell  His  spiritual  throne,  hard-earned  as  it  was  to 


28  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

be,  for  popular  applause  and  the  glories  of  the  hour. 
Knowing  that  only  by  the  utmost  of  human  goodness 
and  self-sacrifice,  and  by  the  utmost  of  trial  and  en- 
durance, could  any  true  and  lasting  rule  of  men  be 
gained,  He  chose  this  path  and  the  throne  it  led  to. 
With  the  most  comprehensive  view  of  the  kingdom  He 
was  to  found,  and  with  a  spirit  of  profound  seriousness 
strangely  contrasting  in  its  composed  and  self-possessed 
insight  with  the  blind  tumult  around  Him,  He  claimed 
the  crown  of  the  Messiah.  His  suffering  was  not 
formal  and  nominal,  it  was  not  a  mere  pageant ;  equally 
real  was  the  claim  He  now  made  and  which  brought 
Him  to  that  suffering. 


III. 

THE    CORN    OF    WHEAT^ 


29 


"Now  there  were  certain  Greeks  among  those  that  went  up  to 
worship  at  the  feast  :  these  therefore  came  to  Philip,  which  was  of 
Bethsaida  of  Galilee,  and  asked  him,  saying,  Sir,  we  would  see  Jesus. 
Philip  Cometh  and  telleth  Andrew  :  Andrew  cometh,  and  Philip,  and 
they  tell  Jesus.  And  Jesus  answereth  them,  saying,  The  hour  is  come, 
that  the  Son  of  man  should  be  glorified.  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you, 
Except  a  grain  of  wheat  fall  into  the  earth  and  die,  it  abideth  by  itself 
alone  ;  but  if  it  die,  it  beareth  much  fruit.  He  that  loveth  his  life 
loseth  it ;  and  he  that  hateth  his  life  in  this  world  shall  keep  it  unto  life 
eternal," — ^John  xii.  20-26. 


30  -' 


; 


III. 

THE    CORN    OF    WHEAT. 

ST.  JOHN  now  introduces  a  third  incident  to  show 
that  all  is  ripe  for  the  death  of  Jesus.  Already  he 
has  shown  us  that  in  the  inmost  circle  of  His  friends 
He  has  now  won  for  Himself  a  permanent  place,  a  love 
which  ensures  that  His  memory  will  be  had  in  ever- 
lasting remembrance.  Next,  he  has  lifted  into  promi- 
nence the  scene  in  which  the  outer  circle  of  the  Jewish 
people  were  constrained,  in  an  hour  when  their  honest 
.enthusiasm  and  instincts  carried  them  away,  to  acknow- 
ledge Him  as  the  Messiah  who  had  come  to  fulfil  all 
God's  will  upon  earth.  He  now  goes  on  to  tell  us 
how  this  agitation  at  the  centre  was  found  rippling  in 
ever-widening  circles  till  it  broke  with  a  gentle  whisper 
on  the  shores  of  the  isles  of  the  Gentiles.  This  is  the 
significance  which  St.  John  sees  in  the  request  of  the 
Greeks  that  they  might  be  introduced  to  Jesus. 

These  Greeks  were  "  of  those  that  came  up  to 
worship  at  the  feast."  They  were  proselytes,  Greeks 
by  birth,  Jews  by  religion.  They  suggest  the  import- 
ance for  Christianity  of  the  leavening  process  which 
Judaism  was  accomplishing  throughout  the  world. 
They  may  not  have  come  from  any  remoter  country 
than  Galilee,  but  from  traditions  and  customs  separate 
as  the  poles  from   the  Jewish  customs  and  thoughts. 


32  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

From  their  heathen  surroundings  they  came  to  Jeru- 
salem, possibly  for  the  first  time,  with  wondering 
anticipations  of  the  blessedness  of  those  who  dwelt  in 
God's  house,  and  feeling  their  thirst  for  the  living  God 
burning  within  them  as  their  eyes  lighted  on  the  pin- 
nacles of  the  Temple,  and  as  at  last  their  feet  stood 
within  its  precincts.  But  up  through  all  these  desires 
grew  one  that  overshadowed  them,  and,  through  all  the 
petitions  which  a  year  or  many  years  of  sin  and  diffi- 
culty had  made  familiar  to  their  lips,  this  petition  made 
its  way  :  "Sir,  we  would  see  Jesus." 

This  petition  they  address  to  Philip,  not  only  because 
he  had  a  Greek  name,  and  therefore  presumably  be- 
longed to  a  family  in  which  Greek  was  spoken  and 
Greek  connections  cultivated,  but  because,  as  St.  Jchn 
reminds  us,  he  was  "  of  Bethsaida  of  Galilee,"  and  might 
be  expected  to  understand  and  speak  Greek,  if,  indeed, 
he  was  not  already  known  to  these  strangers  in  Jeru- 
salem. And  by  their  request  they  obviously  did  not 
mean  that  Philip  should  set  them  in  a  place  of  vantage 
from  which  they  might  have  a  good  view  of  Jesus  as 
He  passed  by,  for  this  they  could  well  have  accom- 
plished without  Philip's  friendly  intervention.  But  they 
wished  to  question  and  make  Him  out,  to  see  for  them- 
selves whether  there  were  in  Jesus  what  even  in 
Judaism  they  felt  to  be  lacking — whether  He  at  last 
might  not  satisfy  the  longings  of  their  Divinely 
awakened  spirits.  Possibly  they  may  even  have  wished 
to  ascertain  His  purposes  regarding  the  outlying 
nations,  how  the  Messianic  reign  was  to  affect  them. 
Possibly  they  may  even  have  thought  of  offering  Him 
an  asylum  where  He  might  find  shelter  from  the 
hostility  of  His  own  people. 

Evidently   Philip  considered  that    this   request   was 


xii.  20-26.]  THE  CORN  OF  WHEAT.  33 

critical.  The  Apostles  had  been  charged  not  to  enter 
into  any  Gentile  city,  and  they  might  naturally  suppose 
that  Jesus  would  be  reluctant  to  be  interviewed  by 
Greeks.  But  before  dismissing  the  request,  he  lays  it 
before  Andrew  his  friend,  who  also  bore  a  Greek  name; 
and  after  deliberation  the  two  make  bold,  if  not  to  urge 
the  request,  at  least  to  inform  Jesus  that  it  had  been 
made.  At  once  in  this  modestly  urged  petition  He 
hears  the  whole  Gentile  world  uttering  its  weary,  long- 
disappointed  sigh,  "  We  would  see."  This  is  no  mere 
Greek  inquisitiveness ;  it  is  the  craving  of  thoughtful 
men  recognising  their  need  of  a  Redeemer.  To  the 
eye  of  Jesus,  therefore,  this  meeting  opens  a  prospect 
which  for  the  moment  overcomes  Him  with  the  bright- 
ness of  its  glory.  In  this  little  knot  of  strangers  He 
sees  the  firstfruits  of  the  immeasurable  harvest  which 
was  henceforth  to  be  continuously  reaped  among  the 
Gentiles.  No  more  do  we  hear  the  heart-broken  cry, 
."  O  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem  ! "  no  longer  the  reproachful 
"Ye  will  not  come  to  Me,  that  ye  might  have  life,"  but 
the  glad  consummation  of  His  utmost  hope  utters  itself 
in  the  words,  "  The  hour  is  come  that  the  Son  of  man 
should  be  glorified." 

But  while  promise  was  thus  given  of  the  glorification 
of  the  Messiah  by  His  reception  among  all  men,  the 
path  which  led  to  this  was  never  absent  from  the  mind 
of  our  Lord.  Second  to  the  inspiriting  thought  of  His 
recognition  by  the  Gentile  world  came  the  thought  of 
the  painful  means  by  which  alone  He  could  be  truly 
glorified.  He  checks,  therefore,  the  shout  of  exultation 
which  He  sees  rising  to  the  lips  of  His  disciples  with 
the  sobering  reflection  :  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you, 
except  a  corn  of  wheat  fall  into  the  ground  and  die, 
it  abideth  alone  :  but  if  it  die,  it  bringeth  forth  much 

VOL.  II.  :; 


34  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

fruit."  As  if  He  said,  Do  not  fancy  that  I  have  nothing 
to  do  but  to  accept  the  sceptre  which  these  men  offer, 
to  seat  Myself  on  the  world's  throne.  The  world's 
throne  is  the  Cross.  These  men  will  not  know  My 
power  until  I  die.  The  manifestation  of  Divine  pre- 
sence in  My  life,  has  been  distinct  enough  to  win  them 
to  inquiry ;  they  will  be  for  ever  won  to  Me  by  the 
Divine  presence  revealed  in  My  death.  Like  the  corn 
of  wheat,  I  must  die  if  I  would  be  abundantly  fruitful. 
It  is  through  death  My  whole  living  power  can  be 
disengaged  and  can  accomplish  all  possibilities. 

Two  points  are  here  suggested :  (I.)  That  the  life, 
the  living  force  that  was  in  Christ,  reached  its  proper 
value  and  influence  through  His  death  ;  and  (II.)  that 
the  proper  value  of  Christ's  life  is  that  it  propagates 
similar  lives. 

I.  The  life  of  Christ  acquired  its  proper  value  and 
received'  its  fit  development  through  His  death.  This 
truth  He  sets  before  us  in  the  illuminating  figure  of  the 
corn  of  wheat.  "  Except  a  corn  of  wheat  fall  into  the 
ground  and  die,  it  abideth  alone."  There  are  three 
uses  to  which  wheat  may  be  put :  it  may  be  stored 
for  sale,  it  may  be  ground  and  eaten,  it  may  be  sown. 
For  our  Lord's  purposes  these  three  uses  may  be  con- 
sidered as  only  two.  Wheat  may  be  eaten,  or  it  may 
be  sown.  With  a  pickle  of  wheat  or  a  grain  of  oats 
you  may  do  one  of  two  things  :  you  may  eat  it  and 
enjoy  a  momentary  gratification  and  benefit ;  or  you 
may  put  it  in  the  ground,  burying  it  out  of  sight  and 
suffering  it  to  pass  through  uncomely  processes,  and 
it  will  reappear  multiplied  a  hundredfold,  and  so  on  in 
everlasting  series.  Year  by  year  men  sacrifice  their 
choicest  sample  of  grain,  and  are  content  to  bury  it  in 
the  earth  instead  of  exposing  it  in  the  market,  because 


xii. 20-26.]  THE  CORN  OF  WHEAT.  35 


they  understand  that  except  it  die  it  abideth  alone,  but 
if  it  die  it  bringeth  forth  much  fruit.  The  proper  life 
of  the  grain  is  terminated  when  it  is  used  for  imme- 
diate gratification :  it  receives  its  fullest  development 
and  accomplishes  its  richest  end  when  it  is  cast  into 
the  ground,  buried  out  of  sight,  and  apparently  lost. 

As  with  the  grain,  so  is  it  with  each  human  life. 
One  of  two  things  you  can  do  with  your  life  ;  both 
you  cannot  do,  and  no  third  thing  is  possible.  You 
may  consume  your  life  for  your  own  present  gratifica- 
tion and  profit,  to  satisfy  your  present  cravings  and 
tastes  and  to  secure  the  largest  amount  of  immediate 
enjoyment  to  yourself — you  may  eat  your  life ;  or  you 
may  be  content  to  put  aside  present  enjoyment  and 
profits  of  a  selfish  kind  and  devote  your  life  to  the  uses 
of  God  and  men.  In  the  one  case  you  make  an  end 
of  your  life,  you  consume  it  as  it  goes;  no  good  results, 
no  enlarging  influence,  no  deepening  of  character,  no 
•fuller  life,  follows  from  such  an  expenditure  of  life — - 
spent  on  yourself  and  on  the  present,  it  terminates 
with  yourself  and  with  the  present.  But  in  the  other 
case  you  find  you  have  entered  into  a  more  abundant 
life  ;  by  living  for  others  your  interests  are  widened, 
your  desire  for  life  increased,  the  results  and  ends  of 
life  enriched.  "  He  that  loveth  his  life  shall  lose  it ;  and 
he  that  hateth  his  life  in  this  world  shall  keep  it  unto 
life  eternal."  It  is  a  law  we  cannot  evade.  He  that 
consumes  his  life  now,  spending  it  on  himself — he  who 
cannot  bear  to  let  his  life  out  of  his  own  hand,  but 
cherishes  and  pampers  it  and  gathers  all  good  around 
it,  and  will  have  the  fullest  present  enjoyment  out  of 
it, — this  man  is  losing  his  life  ;  it  comes  to  an  end  as 
certainly  as  the  seed  that  is  eaten.  But  he  who  devotes 
his  life  to  other  uses  than  his  own  gratification,  who 


36  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

does  not  so  prize  self  that  everything  must  minister 
to  its  comfort  and  advancement,  but  who  can  truly 
yield  himself  to  God  and  put  himself  at  God's  disposal 
for  the  general  good, — this  man,  though  he  may  often 
seem  to  lose  his  life,  and  often  does  lose  it  so  far  as 
present  advantage  goes,  keeps  it  to  life  everlasting. 

The  law  of  the  seed  is  the  law  of  human  life.  Use 
your  life  for  present  and  selfish  gratification  and  to 
satisfy  your  present  cravings,  and  you  lose  it  for  ever. 
Renounce  self,  yield  yourself  to  God,  spend  your  life 
for  the  common  good,  irrespective  of  recognition  or 
the  lack  of  it,  personal  pleasure  or  the  absence  of  it, 
and  although  your  life  may  thus  seem  to  be  lost,  it  is 
finding  its  best  and  highest  development  and  passes 
into  life  eternal.  Your  life  is  a  seed  now,  not  a 
developed  plant,  and  it  can  become  a  developed  plant 
only  by  your  taking  heart  to  cast  it  frorh  you  and  sow 
it  in  the  fertile  soil  of  other  men's  needs.  This  will 
seem,  indeed,  to  disintegrate  it  and  fritter  it  away,  and 
leave  it  a  contemptible,  obscure,  forgotten  thing;  but 
it  does,  in  fact,  set  free  the  vital  forces  that  are  in  it, 
and  give  it  its  fit  career  and  maturity. 

Looking  at  the  thing  itself,  apart  from  figure,  it  is 
apparent  that  "  he  that  loveth  his  life  shall  lose  it ;  and 
he  that  hateth  his  life  in  this  world  shall  keep  it  unto 
life  eternal."  The  man  who  most  freely  -uses  his  life 
for  others,  keeping  least  to  himself  and  living  solely  for 
the  common  interests  of  mankind,  has  the  most  enduring 
influence.  He  sets  in  motion  forces  which  propagate 
fresh  results  eternally.  And  not  only  so.  He  who 
freely  sows  his  life  has  it  eternally,  not  only  in  so  far 
as  he  has  set  in  motion  an  endless  series  of  beneficent 
influences,  but  inasmuch  as  he  himself  enters  into  life 
eternal.     An  immortality  of  influence  is  one  thing  and 


xii.  20-26.]  THE  CORN  OF  WHEAT.  37 

a  very  great  thing ;  but  an  immortality  of  personal  life 
is  another,  and  this  also  is  promised  by  our  Lord  when 
He  says  (ver.  26),  "  Where  I  am,  there  shall  also  My 
servant  be." 

This,  then,  being  the  law  of  human  life,  Christ,  being 
man,  must  not  only  enounce  but  observe  it.  He  speaks 
of  Himself  even  more  directly  than  of  us  when  He  says, 
"  He  that  loveth  his  life  shall  lose  it."  His  disciples 
thought  they  had  never  seen  such  promise  in  His  life 
as  at  this  hour :  seedtime  seemed  to  them  to  be  past, 
and  the  harvest  at  hand.  Their  Master  seemed  to  be 
fairly  launched  on  the  tide  that  was  to  carry  Him  to  the 
highest  pinnacle  of  human  glory.  And  so  He  was,  but 
not,  as  they  thought,  by  simply  yielding  Himself  to  be 
set  as  King  and  to  receive  adoration  from  Jew  and 
Gentile.  He  saw  with  different  eyes,  and  that  it  was 
a  different  exaltation  which  would  win  for  Him  lasting 
sovereignty  :  "  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up,  will  draw  all  men  unto 
Me."  He  knew  the  law  which  governed  the  develop- 
ment of  human  life.  He  knew  that  a  total  and  absolute 
surrender  of  self  to  the  uses  and  needs  of  others  was 
the  one  path  to  permanent  life,  and  that  in  His  case 
this  absolute  surrender  involved  death. 

A  comparison  of  the  good  done  by  the  life  of  Christ 
with  that  done  by  His  death  shows  how  truly  He 
judged  when  He  declared  that  it  was  by  His  death  He 
should  effectually  gather  all  men  to  Him.  His  death, 
like  the  dissolution  of  the  seed,  seemed  to  terminats 
His  work,  but  really  was  its  germination.  So  long  ae 
He  lived,  it  was  but  His  single  strength  that  was  used  ; 
He  abode  alone.  There  was  great  virtue  in  His  life — 
great  power  for  the  healing,  the  instruction,  the  eleva- 
tion, of  mankind.  In  His  brief  public  career  He  sug- 
gested much  to  the  influential  men  of  His  time,  set  all 


38  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

men  who  knew  Him  a-thinking,  aided  many  to  reform 
their  lives,  and  removed  a  large  amount  of  distress  and 
disease.  He  communicated  to  the  world  a  mass  of  new 
truth,  so  that  those  who  have  lived  after  Him  have 
stood  at  quite  a  different  level  of  knowledge  from  that 
of  those  who  lived  before  Him.  And  yet  how  little  of 
the  proper  results  of  Christ's  influence,  how  little  under- 
standing of  Christianity,  do  you  find  even  in  His  nearest 
friends  until  He  died.  By  the  visible  appearance  and 
the  external  benefits  and  the  false  expectations  His 
greatness  created,  the  minds  of  men  were  detained  from 
penetrating  to  the  spirit  and  mind  of  Christ.  It  was 
expedient  for  them  that  He  should  go  away,  for  until 
He  went  they  depended  on  His  visible  power,  and  His 
spirit  could  not  be  wholly  received  by  them.  They 
were  looking  at  the  husk  of  the  seed,  and  its  life  could 
not  reach  them.  They  were  looking  for  help  from  Him 
instead  of  themselves  becoming  like  Him. 

And  therefore  He  chose  at  an  early  age  to  cease  from 
all  that  was  marvellous  and  beneficent  in  His  fife  among 
men.  He  might,  as  these  Greeks  suggested,  have 
visited  other  lands  and  have  continued  His  healing  and 
teaching  there.  He  might  have  done  more  in  His  own 
time  than  He  did,  and  His  time  might  have  been  indefi- 
nitely prolonged  ;  but  He  chose  to  cease  from  all  this  and 
voluntarily  gave  Himself  to  die,  judging  that  thereby 
He  could  do  much  more  good  than  by  His  life.  He 
was  straitened  till  this  was  accomplished  ;  He  felt  as  a 
man  imprisoned  and  whose  powers  are  held  in  check. 
It  was  winter  and  not  spring-time  with  Him.  There 
was  a  change  to  pass  upon  Him  which  should  disengage 
the  vital  forces  that  were  in  Him  and  cause  their  full 
power  to  be  felt — a  change  which  should  thaw  the 
springs  of  life  in  Him  and  let  them  flow  forth  to  all. 


xii.  20-26.]  THE   CORN  OF  WHEAT.  39 

To  use  His  own  figure,  He  was  as  a  seed  unsown  so 
long  as  He  lived,  valuable  only  in  His  own  proper 
person;  but  by  dying  His  life  obtained  the  value 
of  seed  sown,  propagating  its  kind  in  everlasting 
increase. 

II.  The  second  point  suggested  is,  that  the  proper 
value  of  Christ's  life  consists  in  this — that  it  propagates 
similar  lives.  As  seed  produces  grain  of  its  own  kind, 
so  Christ  produces  men  like  Christ.  He  ceasing  to  do 
good  in  this  world  as  a  living  man,  a  multitude  of 
others  by  this  very  cessation  are  raised  in  His  likeness. 
By  His  death  we  receive  both  inclination  and  ability  to 
become  with  Him  sons  of  God.  "The  love  of  Christ 
constraineth  us,  because  we  thus  judge  that  if  one  died 
for  all,  then  all  died  ;  and  that  He  died  for  all,  that 
they  which  live  should  not  henceforth  live  unto  them- 
selves, but  unto  Him  that  died  for  them."  By  His 
death  He  has  effected  an  entrance  for  this  law  of  self- 
surrender  into  human  life,  has  exhibited  it  in  a  perfect 
form,  and  has  won  others  to  live  as  He  lived.  So 
that,  using  the  figure  He  used,  we  may  say  that  the 
company  of  Christians  now  on  earth  are  Christ  in  a 
new  form,  His  body  indeed.  "That  which  thou  sowest, 
thou  sowest  not  that  body  which  shall  be,  but  bare 
grain  :  but  God  giveth  it  a  body  as  it  hath  pleased 
Him,  and  to  every  seed  his  own  body."  Christ 
having  been  sown,  lives  now  in  His  people.  They  are 
the  body  in  which  He  dwells.  And  this  will  be  seen. 
For  standing  and  looking  at  a  head  of  barley  waving 
on  its  stalk,  no  amount  of  telling  would  persuade  you 
that  that  had  sprung  from  a  seed  of  wheat ;  and  looking 
at  any  life  which  is  characterised  by  "selfish  ambition 
and  eagerness  for  advancement  and  little  regard  for  the 
wants  of  other  men,  no  persuasion  can  make  it  credible 


40  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

that  that  life  springs  from  the  self-sacrificing  life  of 
Christ. 

What  Christ  here  shows  us,  then,  is  that  the  prin- 
ciple which  regulates  the  development  of  seed  regulates 
the  growth,  continuance,  and  fruitfulness  of  human 
life  ;  that  whatever  is  of  the  nature  of  seed  gets  to  its 
full  life  only  through  death;  that  our  Lord,  knowing 
this  law,  submitted  to  it,  or  rather  by  His  native  love 
was  attracted  to  the  life  and  death  which  revealed  this 
law  to  Him.  He  gave  His  life  away  for  the  good  of 
men,  and  therefore  prolongs  His  days  and  sees  His 
seed  eternally.  There  is  not  one  way  for  Him  and 
another  for  us.  The  same  law  applies  to  all.  It  is 
not  peculiar  to  Christ.  The  work  He  did  was  peculiar 
to  Him,  as  each  individual  has  his  own  place  and 
work ;  but  the  principle  on  which  all  right  lives  are  led 
is  one  and  the  same  universally.  What  Christ  did 
He  did  because  He  was  living  a  human  life  on  right 
principles.-  We  need  not  die  on  the  cross  as  He  did, 
but  we  must  as  truly  yield  ourselves  as  living  sacrifices 
to  the  interests  of  men.  If  we  have  not  done  so,  we 
have  yet  to  go  back  to  the  very  beginning  of  all  lasting 
life  and  progress  ;  and  we  are  but  deceiving  ourselves 
by  attainments  and  successes  which  are  not  only  hollow, 
but  are  slowly  cramping  and  killing  all  that  is  in  us. 
Whoever  will  choose  the  same  destiny  as  Christ  must 
take  the  same  road  to  it  that  He  took.  He  took  the 
one  right  way  for  men  to  go,  and  said,  "  If  any  man 
follow  Me,  where  I  am  there  will  he  be  also."  If  we 
do  not  follow  Him,  we  really  walk  in  darkness  and 
know  not  whither  we  go.  We  cannot  five  for  selfish 
purposes  and  then  enjoy  the  common  happiness  and 
glory  of  the  race.     Self-seeking  is  self-destroying. 

And  it  is  needful  to  remark  that  this  self-renunciation 


xii.  20-26.]  THE  CORN  OF  WHEAT.  4' 

must  be  real.  The  law  of  sacrifice  is  the  law  not  for 
a  year  or  two  in  order  to  gain  some  higher  selfish  good 
— which  is  not  self-sacrifice,  but  deeper  self-seeking  ; 
it  is  the  law  of  all  human  life,  not  a  short  test  of  our 
fidelity  to  Christ,  but  the  only  law  on  which  life  can 
ever  proceed.  It  is  not  a  barter  of  self  I  make, 
giving  it  up  for  a  little  that  I  may  have  an  enriched 
self  to  eternity ;  but  it  is  a  real  foregoing  and  abandon- 
ment of  self  for  ever,  a  change  of  desire  and  nature, 
so  that  instead  of  finding  my  joy  in  what  concerns 
myself  only  I  find  my  joy  in  what  is  serviceable  to 
others. 

Thus  only  can  we  enter  into  permanent  happiness. 
Goodness  and  happiness  are  one — one  in  the  long-run, 
if  not  one  in  every  step  of  the  way.  We  are  not  asked 
to  live  for  others  without  any  heart  to  do  so.  We  are 
not  asked  to  choose  as  our  eternal  life  what  will  be  a 
constant  pain  and  can  only  be  reluctantly  done.  The 
very  heathen  would  not  offer  in  sacrifice  the  animal 
"that  struggled  as  it  was  led  to  the  altar.  All  sacrifice 
must  be  willingly  made ;  it  must  be  the  sacrifice  which 
is  prompted  by  love.  God  and  this  world  demand  our 
best  work,  and  only  what  we  do  with  pleasure  can  be 
our  best  work.  Sacrifice  of  self  and  labour  for  others 
are  not  like  Christ's  sacrifice  and  labour  unless  they 
spring  from  love.  Forced,  reluctant,  constrained  sacri- 
fice or  service — service  which  is  no  joy  to  ourselves 
through  the  love  we  bear  to  those  for  whom  we  do  it — 
is  not  the  service  that  is  required  of  us.  Service  into 
which  we  can  throw  our  whole  strength,  because  we 
are  convinced  it  will  be  of  use  to  others,  and  because 
we  long  to  see  them  enjoying  it — this  is  the  service 
required.  Love,  in  short,  is  the  solution  of  all.  Find 
your  happiness  in  the  happiness  of  many  rather  than 


4^  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

in  the  happiness  of  one,  and  life  becomes  simple  and 
inspiring. 

Nor  are  we  to  suppose  that  this  is  an  impracticable, 
high-pitched  counsel  of  perfection  with  which  plain 
men  need  not  trouble  themselves.  Every  human  life  is 
under  this  law.  There  is  no  path  to  goodness  or  to 
happiness  save  this  one.  Nature  herself  teaches  us  as 
much.  When  a  man  is  truly  attracted  by  another,  and 
when  genuine  affection  possesses  his  heart,  his  whole 
being  is  enlarged,  and  he  finds  it  his  best  pleasure  to 
serve  that  person.  The  father  who  sees  his  children 
enjoying  the  fruit  of  his  toil  feels  himself  a  far  richer 
man  than  if  he  were  spending  all  on  himself.  But  this 
family  affection,  this  domestic  solution  of  the  problem 
of  happy  self-sacrifice,  is  intended  to  encourage  and 
show  us  the  way  to  a  wider  extension  of  our  love,  and 
thereby  of  our  use  and  happiness.  The  more  love 
we  have,  the  happier  we  are.  Self-sacrifice  looks 
miserable;  and  we  shrink  from  it  as  from  death  and 
destitution,  because  we  look  at  it  in  separation  from 
the  love  it  springs  from.  Self-sacrifice  without  love  is 
death  ;  we  abandon  our  own  life  and  do  not  find  it 
again  in  any  other.  It  is  a  seed  ground  under  the 
heel,  not  a  seed  lightly  thrown  into  prepared  soil.  It 
is  in  love  that  goodness  and  happiness  have  their 
common  root.  And  it  is  this  love  which  is  required 
of  us  and  promised  to  us.  So  that  as  often  as  we 
shudder  at  the  dissolution  of  our  own  personal  interests, 
the  scattering  of  our  own  selfish  hopes  and  plans,  the 
surrender  of  our  life  to  the  service  of  others,  we  are 
to  remember  that  this,  which  looks  so  very  like  death, 
and  which  often  throws  around  our  prospects  the 
chilling  atmosphere  of  the  tomb,  is  not  really  the 
termination,  but  the  beginning  of  the  true  and  eternal 


xii.  20-26.]  THE  CORN  OF  WHEAT.  43 

life  of  the  spirit.  Let  us  keep  our  heart  in  the  fellow- 
ship of  the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  let  us  feel  our  way  into 
the  meanings  and  uses  of  that  sacrifice,  and  learn  its 
reality,  its  utility,  its  grace,  and  at  length  it  will  lay 
hold  of  our  whole  nature,  and  we  shall  find  that  it 
impels  us  to  regard  other  men  with  interest  and  to  find 
our  true  joy  and  life  in  serving  them. 


IV. 

THE  ATTRACTIVE  FORCE   OF  THE  CROSS. 


45 


"  Now  is  my  soul  troubled  ;  and  what  shall  I  say?  Father,  save  Me 
from  this  hour.  But  for  this  cause  came  I  unto  this  hour.  Father, 
glorify  Thy  name.  There  came  therefore  a  voice  out  of  heaven,  saying, 
I  have  both  glorified  it,  and  will  glorify  it  again.  The  multitude  there- 
fore, that  stood  by,  and  heard  it,  said  that  it  had  thundered :  others 
said,  An  angel  hath  spoken  to  Him.  Jesus  answered  and  said.  This 
voice  hath  not  come  for  My  sake,  but  for  your  sakes.  Now  is  the 
judgment  of  this  world :  now  shall  the  prince  of  this  world  be  cast  out. 
And  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up  from  the  earth,  will  draw  all  men  unto  Myself 
But  this  He  said,  signifying  by  what  manner  of  death  He  should  die. 
The  multitude  therefore  answered  Him,  We  have  heard  out  of  the  law 
that  the  Christ  abideth  for  ever  :  and  how  sayest  thou.  The  Son  of  man 
must  be  lifted  up  ?  who  is  this  Son  of  man  ?  Jesus  therefore  said  unto 
them.  Yet  a  little  while  is  the  light  among  you.  Walk  while  ye  have 
the  light,  that  darkness  overtake  you  not :  and  he  that  walketh  in  the 
darkness  knoweth  not  whither  he  goeth.  While  ye  have  the  light, 
believe  on  the  light,  that  ye  may  become  sons  of  light." — ^JOHN  xii. 
27-36. 


IV. 

THE  ATTRACTIVE  FORCE  OF  THE  CROSS. 

THE  presence  of  the  Greeks  had  stirred  in  the  soul 
of  Jesus  conflicting  emotions.  Glory  by  humi- 
liation, life  through  death,  the  secured  happiness  of 
mankind  through  His  own  anguish  and  abandonment, 
— well  might  the  prospect  disturb  Him.  So  masterly 
is  His  self-command,  so  steadfast  and  constant  His 
habitual  temper,  that  one  almost  inevitably  underrates 
the  severity  of  the  conflict.  The  occasional  withdrawal 
of  the  veil  permits  us  reverently  to  observe  some 
•symptoms  of  the  turmoil  within — symptoms  which  it 
is  probably  best  to  speak  of  in  His  own  words  :  "  Now 
is  My  soul  troubled  ;  and  what  shall  I  say  ?  Shall  I 
say,  '  Father,  save  Me  from  this  hour  '  ?  But  for  this 
cause  came  I  unto  this  hour.  Father,  glorify  Thy 
name."  This  Evangelist  does  not  describe  the  agony 
in  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane.  It  was  needless  after 
this  indication  of  the  same  conflict.  Here  is  the  same 
shrinking  from  a  public  and  shameful  death  conquered 
by  His  resolution  to  deliver  men  from  a  still  darker 
and  more  shameful  death.  Here  is  the  same  foretaste 
of  the  bitterness  of  the  cup  as  it  now  actually  touches 
His  lips,  the  same  clear  reckoning  of  all  it  meant  to 
drain  that  cup  to  the  dregs,  together  with  the  deliberate 
assent  to  all  that  the  will  of  the  Father  might  require 
Him  to  endurCi 

47 


48  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

In  response  to  this  act  of  submission,  expressed  in 
the  words,  "  Father,  glorify  Thy  name,"  there  came 
a  voice  from  heaven,  saying,  "  I  have  both  glorified 
it,  and  will  glorify  it  again."  The  meaning  of  this 
assurance  was,  that  as  in  all  the  past  manifestation 
of  Christ  the  Father  had  become  better  known  to  men, 
so  in  all  that  was  now  impending,  however  painful  and 
disturbed,  however  filled  with  human  passions  and  to  all 
appearance  the  mere  result  of  them,  the  Father  would 
still  be  glorified.  Some  thought  the  voice  was  thunder ; 
others  seemed  almost  to  catch  articulate  sounds,  and 
said,  "  An  angel  spake  to  Him."  But  Jesus  explained 
that  it  was  not  "  to  Him "  the  voice  was  specially 
addressed,  but  rather  for  the  sake  of  those  who  stood 
by.  And  it  was  indeed  of  immense  importance  that 
the  disciples  should  understand  that  the  events  which 
were  about  to  happen  were  overruled  by  God  that  He 
might  be  glorified  in  Christ.  It  is  easy  for  us  to  see 
that  nothing  so  glorifies  the  Father's  name  as  these 
[~ hours  of  suffering  ;  but  how  hard  for  the  onlookers  to 
I  believe  that  this  sudden  transformation  of  the  Messianic 
[throne  into  the  criminal's  cross  was  no  defeat  of  God's 
purpose,  but  its  final  fulfilment.  He  leads  them,  there- 
fore, to  consider  that  in  His  judgment  the  whole  world 
is  judged,  and  to  perceive  in  His  arrest  and  trial  and 
condemnation  not  merely  the  misguided  and  wanton 
outrage  of  a  few  men  in  power,  but  the  critical  hour  of 
the  world's  history. 

This  world  has  commonly  presented  itself  to  thought- 
ful minds  as  a  battle-field  in  which  the  powers  of  good 
and  evil  wage  ceaseless  war.  In  the  words  He  now 
utters  the  Lord  declares  Himself  to  be  standing  at  the 
very  crisis  of  the  battle,  and  with  the  deepest  assurance 
He  announces  that  the  opposing  power  is  broken  and 


xii.  27-36.]    ATTRACTIVE  FORCE  OF  THE  CROSS.  49 


that  victory  remains  with  Him.  "  Now  is  the  prince 
of  this  world  cast  out ;  and  I  will  draw  all  men  unto 
Me."  The  prince  of  this  world,  that  which  actually 
rules  and  leads  men  in  opposition  to  God,  was  judged, 
condemned,  and  overthrown  in  the  death  of  Christ. 
By  His  meek  acceptance  of  God's  will  in  the  face  of 
all  that  could  make  it  difficult  and  dreadful  to  accept  it. 
He  won  for  the  race  deliverance  from  the  thraldom  of 
sin.  At  length  a  human  life  had  been  lived  without 
submission  at  any  point  to  the  prince  of  this  world. 
As  man  and  in  the  name  of  all  men  Jesus  resisted  the 
last  and  most  violent  assault  that  could  be  made  upon 
His  faith  in  God  and  fellowship  with  Him,  and  so 
perfected  His  obedience  and  overcame  the  prince  of 
this  world, — overcame  him  not  in  one  act  alone — • 
many  had  done  that — but  in  a  completed  human  life, 
in  a  life  which  had  been  freely  exposed  to  the  complete 
array  of  temptations  that  can  be  directed  against  men 
in  this  world. 

In  order  more  clearly  to  apprehend  the  promise  of 
victory  contained  in  our  Lord's  words,  we  may  consider 
(I.)  the  object  He  had  in  view — to  "  draw  all  men  "  to 
Him ;  and  (H.)  the  condition  of  His  attaining  this 
object — namely.  His  death. 

I.  The  object  of  Christ  was  to  draw  all  men  to  Him. 
The  opposition  in  which  He  here  sets  Himself  to  the 
prince  of  this  world  shows  us  that  by  "  drawing  "  He 
means  attracting  as  a  king  attracts,  to  His  name.  His 
claims,  His  standard.  His  person.  Our  life  consists 
in  our  pursuance  of  one  object  or  another,  and 
our  devotion  is  continually  competed  for.  When  two 
claimants  contest  a  kingdom,  the  country  is  divided 
between  them,  part  cleaving  to  the  one  and  part  to 
the  other.     The  individual  determines  to  which  side  he 

VOL.    II.  4 


50  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

shall  cleave, — by  his  prejudices  or  by  his  justice,  as  it 
may  be  ;  by  his  knowledge  of  the  comparative  capacity 
of  the  claimants,  or  by  his  ignorant  predilection.  He 
is  taken  in  by  sounding  titles,  or  he  penetrates  through 
all  bombast  and  promises  and  douceurs  to  the  real 
merit  or  demerit  of  the  man  himself.  One  person  will 
judge  by  the  personal  manners  of  the  respective  claim- 
ants ;  another  by  their  published  manifesto,  and  pro- 
fessed object  and  style  of  rule ;  another  by  their  known 
character  and  probable  conduct.  And  while  men  thus 
range  themselves  on  this  side  or  on  that,  they  really 
pass  judgment  on  themselves,  betraying  as  they  do 
what  it  is  that  chiefly  draws  them,  and  taking  their 
places  on  the  side  of  good  or  evil.  It  is  thus  that  we 
all  judge  ourselves  by  following  this  or  that  claimant 
to  our  faith,  regard,  and  devotion,  to  ourself  and  our 
life.  What  we  spend  ourselves  on,  what  we  aim  at 
and  pursue,  what  we  make  our  object,  that  judges  us 
and  that  rules  us  and  that  determines  our  destiny. 

Christ  came  into  the  world  to  be  our  King,  to  lead 
us  to  worthy  achievements.  He  came  that  we  might 
have  a  worthy  object  of  choice  and  of  the  devotion  of 
our  life.  He  serves  the  same  purpose  as  a  king :  He 
embodies  in  His  own  person,  and  thereby  makes  visible 
and  attractive,  the  will  of  God  and  the  cause  of  righteous- 
ness. Persons  who  could  only  with  great  difficulty 
apprehend  His  objects  and  plans  can  appreciate  His 
person  and  trust  Him.  Persons  to  whom  there  would 
seem  little  attraction  in  a  cause  or  in  an  undefined 
"  progress  of  humanity "  can  kindle  with  enthusiasm 
towards  Him  personally,  and  unconsciously  promote 
His  cause  and  the  cause  of  humanity.  And  therefore, 
while  some  are  attracted  by  His  person,  others  by  the 
legitimacy  of  His  claims,   others   by   His  programme 


xii.  27-36.]    ATTRACTIVE  FORCE  OF  THE  CROSS.  51 

of  government,  others  by  His  benefactions,  we  must 
beware  of  denying  loyalty  to  any  of  these.  Expressions 
of  love  to  His  person  may  be  lacking  in  the  man  who 
yet  most  intelligently  enters  into  Christ's  views  for  the 
race,  and  sacrifices  his  means  and  his  life  to  forward 
these  views.  Those  who  gather  to  His  standard  are 
various  in  temperament,  are  drawn  by  various  attrac- 
tions, and  must  be  various  in  their  forms  of  showing 
allegiance.  And  this,  which  is  the  strength  of  His 
camp,  can  only  become  its  weakness  when  men  begin 
to  think  there  is  no  way  but  their  own ;  and  that  alle- 
giance which  is  strenuous  in  labour  but  not  fluent  in 
devout  expression,  or  loyalty  which  shouts  and  throws 
its  cap  in  the  air  but  lacks  intelligence,  is  displeasing 
to  the  King.  The  King,  who  has  great  ends  in  view, 
will  not  inquire  what  it  is  precisely  which  forms  the 
bond  between  Him  and  His  subjects  so  long  as  they 
truly  sympathise  with  Him  and  second  His  efforts. 
The  one  question  is.  Is  He  their  actual  leader  ? 

Of  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  though  a  full  description 
cannot  be  given,  one  or  two  of  the  essential  charac- 
teristics may  be  mentioned. 

I.  It  is  a  kingdom,  a  community  of  men  under  one 
head.  When  Christ  proposed  to  attract  men  to  Him- 
self, it  was  for  the  good  of  the  race  He  did  so.  It 
could  achieve  its  destiny  only  if  He  led  it,  only  if  it 
yielded  itself  to  His  mind  and  ways.  And  those  who 
are  attracted  to  Him,  and  see  reason  to  believe  that  the 
hope  of  the  world  lies  in  the  universal  adoption  of  His 
mind  and  ways,  are  formed  into  one  solid  body  or  com- 
munity. They  labour  for  the  same  ends,  are  governed 
by  the  same  laws,  and  whether  they  know  one  another 
or  not  they  have  the  most  real  sympathy  and  live  for 
one   cause.      Being   drawn    to    Christ,    we    enter  into 


52  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

abiding  fellowship  with  all  the  good  who  have  laboured 
or  are  labouring  in  the  cause  of  humanity.  We  take 
our  places  in  the  everlasting  kingdom,  in  the  community 
of  those  who  shall  see  and  take  part  in  the  great  future 
of  mankind  and  the  growing  enlargement  of  its  destiny. 
We  are  hereby  entered  among  the  living,  and  are 
joined  to  that  body  of  mankind  which  is  to  go  on  and 
which  holds  the  future — not  to  an  extinct  party  which 
may  have  memories,  but  has  no  hopes.  In  sin,  in 
selfishness,  in  worldliness,  individualism  reigns,  and 
all  profound  or  abiding  unity  is  impossible.  Sinners 
have  common  interests  only  for  a  time,  only  as  a 
temporary  guise  of  selfish  interests.     Every  man  out 

rof  Christ  is  really  an  isolated  individual.  But  passing 
into  Christ's  kingdom  we  are  no  longer  isolated,  aban- 
doned wretches  stranded  by  the  stream  of  time,  but 
members  of  the  undying  commonwealth  of  men  in 
which  our  life,  our  work,  our  rights,  our  future,  our 
>  association  with  all  good,  are  assured. 
""  2.  It  is  a  universal  kingdom.  "  I  will  draw  all  men 
unto  Me."  The  one  rational  hope  of  forming  men  into 
one  kingdom  shines  through  these  words.  The  idea 
of  a  universal  monarchy  has  visited  the  great  minds  of 
our  race.  They  have  cherished  their  various  dreams 
of  a  time  when  all  men  should  live  under  one  law  and 
possibly  speak  one  language,  and  have  interests  so 
truly  in  common  that  war  should  be  impossible.  But 
an  effectual  instrument  for  accomplishing  this  grand 
design  has  ever  been  wanting.  Christ  turns  this 
grandest  dream  of  humanity  into  a  rational  hope.  He 
appeals  to  what  is  universally  present  in  human  nature. 
There  is  that  in  Him  which  every  man  needs, — a  door 
to  the  Father ;  t.  visible  image  of  the  unseen  God ;  a 
gracious,  wise,  and  holy  Friend.     He  does  not  appeal  \ 


xii.  27-36.]     ATTRACTIVE  FORCE  OF  THE  CROSS.  53 

exclusively  to  one  generation,  to  educated  or  to  un- 
educated, to  Orientals  or  to  Europeans  alone,  but  to 
man,  to  that  which  we  have  in  common  with  the  lowest 
and  the  highest,  the  most  primitive  and  most  highly 
developed  of  the  species.  The  attractive  influence  He 
exerts  upon  men  is  not  conditioned  by  their  historical 
insight,  by  their  ability  to  sift  evidence,  by  this  or  that 
which  distinguishes  man  from  man,  but  by  their  innate 
consciousness  that  some  higher  power  than  themselves 
exists,  by  their  ability,  if  not  to  recognise  goodness 
when  they  see  it,  at  least  to  recognise  love  when  it  is 
spent  upon  them. 

But  while  our  Lord  affirms  that  there  is  that  in  Him 
which  all  men  can  recognise  and  learn  to  love  and 
serve,  He  does  not  say  that  His  kingdom  will  therefore 
be  quickly  formed.  He  does  not  say  that  this  greatest 
work  of  God  will  take  a  shorter  time  than  the  common 
works  of  God  which  prolong  one  day  of  our  hasty 
■  methods  into  a  thousand  years  of  solidly  growing  pur- 
pose. If  it  has  taken  a  million  ages  for  the  rocks  to 
knit  and  form  for  us  a  standing-ground  and  dwelling- 
place,  we  must  not  expect  that  this  kingdom,  which  is 
to  be  the  one  enduring  result  of  this  world's  history, 
and  which  can  be  built  up  only  of  thoroughly  convinced 
men  and  of  generations  slowly  weeded  of  traditional 
prejudices  and  customs,  can  be  completed  in  a  few 
years.  No  doubt  interests  are  at  stake  in  human 
destiny  and  losses  are  made  by  human  waste  which 
had  no  place  in  the  physical  creation  of  the  world ; 
still,  God's  methods  are,  as  we  judge,,  slow,  and  we 
must  not  think  that  He  who  "  works  hitherto  "  is  doing 
nothing  because  the  swift  processes  of  jugglery  or  the 
hasty  methods  of  human  workmanship  find  no  place 
in  the  extension  of  Christ's  kingdom.     This  kingdom 


54  THE   GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

has  a  firm  hold  of  the  world  and  must  grow.  If  there 
is  one  thing  certain  about  the  future  of  the  world,  it  is 
that  righteousness  and  truth  will  prevail.  The  world 
is  bound  to  come  to  the  feet  of  Christ. 

3.  Christ's  kingdom  being  universal,  it  is  also  and 
necessarily  imvard.  What  is  common  to  all  men  lies 
deepest  in  each.  Christ  was  conscious  that  He  held 
the  key  to  human  nature.  He  knew  what  was  in  man. 
With  the  penetrating  insight  of  absolute  purity  He  had 
gone  about  among  men,  freely  mixing  with  rich  and 
with  poor,  with  the  sick  and  the  healthy,  with  the 
religious  and  the  irreligious.  He  was  as  much  at  home 
with  the  condemned  criminal  as  with  the  blameless 
Pharisee  ;  saw  through  Pilate  and  Caiaphas  alike  ;  knew 
all  that  the  keenest  dramatist  could  tell  Him  of  the 
meannesses,  the  depravities,  the  cruelties,  the  blind 
passions,  the  obstructed  goodness,  of  men ;  but  knew 
also  that.  He  could  sway  all  that  was  in  man  and 
exhibit  that  to  men  which  should  cause  the  sinner  to 
abhor  his  sin  and  seek  the  face  of  God.  This  He 
would  do  by  a  simple  moral  process,  without  violent 
demonstration  or  disturbance  or  assertion  of  authority. 
He  would  "draw"  men.  It  is  by  uiward  conviction, 
not  by  outward  compulsion,  men  are  to  become  His 
subjects.  It  is  by  the  free  and  rational  working  of  the 
human  mind  that  Jesus  builds  up  His  kingdom.  His 
hope  lies  in  a  fuller  and  fuller  light,  in  a  clearer  and 
clearer  recognition  of  facts.  Attachment  to  Christ 
must  be  the  act  of  the  soul's  self ;  everything,  therefore, 
which  strengthens  the  will  or  enlightens  the  mind  or 
enlarges  the  man  brings  him  nearer  to  the  kingdom  of 
Christ,  and  makes  it  more  likely  he  will  yield  to  His 
drawing. 

And  because  Christ's  rule  is  inward  it  is  therefore  of 


xii. 27-36.]    ATTRACTIVE  FORCE  OF  THE  CROSS.  55 

universal  application.  The  inmost  choice  of  the  man 
being  governed  by  Christ,  and  his  character  being  thus 
touched  at  its  inmost  spring,  all  his  conduct  will  be 
governed  by  Christ  and  be  a  carrying  out  of  the  will  of 
Christ.  It  is  not  the  frame  of  society  Christ  seeks  to 
alter,  but  the  spirit  of  it.  It  is  not  the  occupations  and 
institutions  of  human  life  which  the  subject  of  Christ 
finds  to  be  incompatible  with  Christ's  rule,  so  much  as 
the  aim  and  principles  on  which  they  are  conducted. 
The  kingdom  of  Christ  claims  all  human  life  as  its  own, 
and  the  spirit  of  Christ  finds  nothing  that  is  essentially 
human  alien  from  it.  If  the  statesman  is  a  Christian,  it 
will  be  seen  in  his  policy ;  if  the  poet  is  a  Christian,  his 
song  will  betray  it ;  if  a  thinker  be  a  Christian,  his 
readers  soon  find  it  out.  Christianity  does  not  mean 
religious  services',  churches,  creeds,  Bibles,  books, 
equipment  of  any  kind ;  it  means  the  Spirit  of  Christ. 
It  is  the  most  portable  and  flexible  of  all  religions,  and 
therefore  the  most  pervasive  and  dominant  in  the 
life  of  its  adherent.  It  needs  but  the  Spirit  of  God 
and  the  spirit  of  man,  and  Christ  mediating  between 
them. 

II.  Such  being  Christ's  object,  what  is  the  condition 
of  His  attaining  it  ?  "  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up,  will  draw  all 
men  unto  Me."  \The  elevation  requisite  for  becoming 
a  visible  object  to  men  of  all  generations  was  the  eleva- 
tion of  the  Cross.J  His  death  would  accomplish  what 
His  life  could  not  accomplish.  The  words  betray  a 
distinct  consciousness  that  there  was  in  His  death  a 
more  potent  spell,  a  more  certain  and  real  influence  for 
good  among  men  than  in  His  teaching  or  in  His 
miracles  or  in  His  purity  of  hfe. 

What  is  it,  then,  in  the  death  of  Christ  which  so  far 
surpasses  His  life  in  its  power  of  attraction  ?     The  life 


56  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

was  equally  unselfish  and  devoted  ;  it  was  more  pro- 
longed ;  it  was  more  directly  useful, — why,  then,  would 
it  have  been  comparatively  ineffective  without  the  death  ? 

'It  may,  in  the  first  place,  be  answered,  Because  His 
death  presents  in  a  dramatic  and  compact  form  that 

\very  devotedness  which  is  diffused  through  every  part 
of  His  life.  Between  the  life  and  the  death  there  is  the 
same  difference  as  between  sheet  lightning  and  forked 
lightning,  between  the  diffused  heat  of  the  sun  and  the 
same  heat  focussed  upon  a  point  through  a  lens.  It 
discloses  what  was  actually  but  latently  there.  The 
life  and  the  death  of  Christ  are  one  and  mutually 
explain  each  other.  From  the  hfe  we  learn  that  no 
motive  can  have  prompted  Christ  to  die  but  the  one 
motive  which  ruled  Him  always — the  desire  to  do  all 
God  willed  in  men's  behalf.  We  cannot  interpret  the 
death  as  anything  else  than   a  consistent    part    of  a 

deliberate  work  undertaken  for  men's  good.  It  was 
not  an  accident ;  it  was  not  an  external  necessity  :  it 

'  was,  as  the  whole  life  was,  a  willing  acceptance  of  the 
uttermost  that  was  required  to  set  men  on  a  higher 
level  and  unite  them  to  God.  But  as  the  life  throws 
this  light  upon  the  death  of  Christ,  how  that  light  is 
gathered  up  and  thrown  abroad  in  world-wide  reflection 
from  the  death  of  Christ !  ( For  here  His  self-sacrifice 
shines  completed  and  perfect^  here  it  is  ejjhibited  in 
that  tragic  and  supreme  form  which  in  all  cases  arrests 
attention  and  commands  respect.  Even  when  a  man 
of  wasted  life  sacrifices  himself  at  last,  and  in  one 
heroic  act  saves  another  by  his  death,  his  past  life  is 
forgotten  or  seems  to  be  redeemed  by  his  death,  and  at 
all  events  we  own  the  beauty  and  the  pathos  of  the 
r~  deed.  A  martyr  to  the  faith  may  have  been  but  a  poor 
creature,    narrow,    harsh    and    overbearing,    vain    and 


xii.  27-36.]    ATTRACTIVE  FORCE   OF  THE   CROSS.  57 

vulgar  in  spirit ;  but  all  the  past  is  blotted  out,  and  our 
attention  is  arrested  on  the  blazing  pile  or  the  bloody 
scaftbld.  So  the  death  of  Christ,  though  but  a  part  of 
the  self-sacrificing  life,  yet  stands  by  itself  as  the  cul- 
mination and  seal  of  that  life ;  it  catches  the  eye  and 
strikes  the  mind,  and  conveys  at  one  view  the  main 
impression  made  by  the  whole  life  and  character  of  Him 
who  gave  Himself  upon  the  cross.  -^ 

But  Christ  is  no  mere  hero  or  teacher  sealing  his 
truth  with  his  blood  ;  nor  is  it  enough  to  say  that  His 
death  renders,  in  a  conspicuous  form,  the  perfect  self- 
sacrifice  with  which  He  devoted  Himself  to  our  good. 
It  is  conceivable  that  in  a  long-past  age  some  other 
man  should  have  lived  and  died  for  his  fellows,  and  yet 
we  at  once  recognise  that,  though  the  history  of  such  a 
person  came  into  our  hands,  we  should  not  be  so  affected 
and  drawn  by  it  as  to  choose  him  as  our  king  and  rest 
upon  him  the  hope  of  uniting  us  to  one  another  and 
to  God.  Wherein,  then,  lies  the  difference  ?  The  dif- 
ference lies  in  this — that  Christ  was  the  representative 
of  God.  This  He  Himself  uniformly  claimed  to  be. 
He  knew  He  was  unique,  different  from  all  others ;  but 
He  advanced  no  claim  to  esteem  that  did  not  pass  to 
the  Father  who  sent  Him,  Always  he  explained  His 
powers  as  being  the  proper  equipment  of  God's  repre- 
sentative. ''  The  words  that  I  speak  unto  you,  I  speak 
not  of  Myself."  His  whole  life  was  the  message  of 
God  to  man,  the  Word  made  flesh.  His  death  was  but 
the  last  syllable  of  this  great  utterance — the  utterance 
of  God's  love  for  man,  the  final  evidence  that  nothing 
is  grudged  us  by  God.  Greater  love  hath  no  man  than 
this,  that  he  lay  down  his  life  for  his  friends.  His 
death  draws  us  because  there  is  in  it  more  than  human 
heroism  and  self-sacrifice.     It  draws  us   because  in  it 


58  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

the  very  heart  of  God  is  laid  bare  to  us.  It  softens, 
it  breaks  us  down,  by  the  irresistible  tenderness  it 
discloses  in  the  mighty  and  ever-blessed  God.  Every 
man  feels  it  has  a  message  for  him,  because  in  it  the 
God  and  Father  of  us  all  speaks  to  us. 

It  is  this  which  is  special  to  the  death  of  Christ,  and 
which  separates  it  from  all  other  deaths  and  heroic 
sacrifices.  It  has  a  universal  bearing — a  bearing  upon 
'every  man,  because  it  is  a  Divine  act,  the  act  of  that 
One  who  is  the  God  and  Father  of  all  men.  vin  the 
same  century  as  our  Lord  many  men  died  in  a  manner 
which  strongly  excites  our  admiration.  Nothing  could 
well  be  more  noble,  nothing  more  pathetic,  than  Vac 
fearless  and  loving  spirit  in  which  Roman  after  Roman 
met  his  death.  But  beyond  respectful  admiration  these 
heroic  deeds  win  from  us  no  further  sentiment.  They 
are  the  deeds  of  men  who  have  no  connection  with  us. 
The  well-worn  words,  "  What's  Hecuba  to  me  or  I  to 
Hecuba?"  rise  to  our  lips  when  we  try  to  fancy  any 
deep  connection.  But  the  death  of  Christ  concerns 
all  men  without  exception,  because  it  is  the  greatest 
declarative  act  of  the  God  of  all  men.  It  is  the  mani- 
festo all  men  are  concerned  to  read.  It  is  the  act  of 
One  with  whom  all  men  are  already  connected  in  the 
closest  way.  And  the  result  of  our  contemplation  of 
it  is,  not  that  we  admire,  but  that  we  are  drawn,  are 
attracted,  into  new  relations  with  Him  whom  that  death 
reveals.  This  death  moves  and  draws  us  as  no  other 
can,  because  here  we  get  to  the  very  heart  of  that 
which  most  deeply  concerns  us.  Here  we  learn  what 
our  God  is  and  where  we  stand  eternally.  He  who  is 
nearest  us  of  all,  and  in  whom  our  life  is  bound  up, 
reveals  Himself;  and  seeing  Him  here  full  of  ungrudging 
and  most  reliable  love,  of  tenderest  and  utterly  self- 


xii.  27-36.]     ATTRACTIVE  FORCE  OF  THE  CROSS.  59 

sacrificing  devotedness  to  us,  we  cannot  but  give  way 
to  this  central  attraction,  and  with  all  other  willing 
creatures  be  drawn  into  fullest  intimacy  and  firmest 
relations  to  the  God  of  all. 

The  death  of  Christ,  then,  draws  men  chiefly  because 
God  here  shows  men  His  sympathy.  His  love,  His 
trustworthiness.  What  the  sun  is  in  the  solar  system, "( 
Christ's  death  is  in  the  moral  world.  The  sun  by  its 
physical  attraction  binds  the  several  planets  together 
and  holds  them  within  range  of  its  light  and  heat. 
God,  the  central  intelligence  and  original  moral  Being, 
draws  to  Himself  and  holds  within  reach  of  His  life- 
giving  radiance  all  who  are  susceptible  ot  moral 
influences ;  and  He  does  so  through  the  death  of 
Christ.  This  is  His  supreme  revelation.  Here,  if  we  J 
may  say  so  with  reverence,  God  is  seen  at  His  best — 
not  that  at  any  time  or  in  any  action  He  is  different, 
but  here  He  is  seen  to  be  the  God  of  love  He  ever  is. 
Nothing  is  better  than  self-sacrifice  :  that  is  the  highest 
point  a  moral  nature  can  touch.  And  God,  by  the 
sacrifice  which  is  rendered  visible  on  the  cross,  gives 
to  the  moral  world  a  real,  actual,  immovable  centre, 
round  which  moral  natures  will  more  and  more  gather, 
and  which  will  hold  them  together  in  self-effacing 
unity. 

To  complete  the  idea  of  the  attractiveness  of  the 
Cross,  it  must  further  be  kept  in  view  that  this  par- 
ticular form  of  the  manifestation  of  the  Divine  love  was 
adapted  to  the  needs  of  those  to  whom  it  was  made. 
To  sinners  the  love  of  God  manifested  itself  in  pro- 
viding a  sacrifice  for  sin.  The  death  on  the  cross  was 
not  an  irrelevant  display,  but  was  an  act  required  for 
■the  removal  of  the  most  insuperable  obstacles  that  lay 
in  man's  path.     The  sinner,  believing  that  in  the  death 


6o  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

of  Christ  his  sins  are  atoned  for,  conceives  hope  in 
God  and  claims  the  Divine  compassion  in  his  own 
behalf.  To  the  penitent  the  Cross  is  attractive  as  an 
I  open  door  to  the  prisoner,  or  the  harbour-heads  to  the 
storm-tossed  ship. 

Let  us  not  suppose,  then,  that  we  are  not  welcome 
to  Christ.  He  desires  to  draw  us  to  Himself  and  to 
form  a  connection  with  us.  He  understands  our  hesita- 
tions, our  doubts  of  our  own  capacity  for  any  steady 
and  enthusiastic  loyalty  ;  but  He  knows  also  the  power 
of  truth  and  love,  the  power  of  His  own  person  and 
of  His  own  death  to  draw  and  fix  the  hesitating  and 
wavering  soul.  And  we  shall  find  that  as  we  strive  to 
serve  Christ  in  our  daily  life  it  is  still  His  death  that 
holds  and  draws  us.  It  is  His  death  which  gives  us 
compunction  in  our  times  of  frivolity,  or  selfishness,  or 
carnality,  or  rebellion,  or  unbelief.  It  is  there  Christ 
appears  in  His  own  most  touching  attitude  and  with 
His  own  most  irresistible  appeal.  We  cannot  further 
wound  One  already  so  wounded  in  His  desire  to  win  us 
from  evil.  To  strike  One  already  thus  nailed  to  the  tree 
in  helplessness  and  anguish,  is  more  than  the  hardest 
heart  can  do.  Our  sin,  our  infidelity,  our  unmoved 
contemplation  of  His  love,  our  blind  iridifference  to  His 
purpose — these  things  wound  Him  more  than  the  spear 
and  the  scourge.  To  rid  us  of  these  things  was  His 
purpose  in  dying,  and  to  see  that  His  work  is  in  vain 
and  His  sufferings  unregarded  and  unfruitful  is  the 
deepest  injury  of  all.  It  is  not  to  the  mere  sentiment 
of  pity  He  appeals :  rather  He  says,  "  Weep  not  for 
Me;  weep  for  yourselves."  It  is  to  our  power  to 
recognise  perfect  goodness  and  to  appreciate  perfect 
love.  He  appeals  to  our  power  to  see  below  the 
surface  of  things,  and  through  the  outer  shell  of  this 


xii. 27-36.]     ATTRACTIVE  FORCE   OF  THE  CROSS.  61 

world's  life  to  the  Spirit  of  good  that  is  at  the  root  of 
all  and  that  manifests  itself  in  Him.  Here  is  the  true 
stay  of  the  human  soul  :  "  Come  unto  Me,  all  ye  that 
labour  and  are  heavy  laden  "  ;  "I  am  come  a  light  into 
the  world  :  walk  in  the  light." 


> 


V. 

RESULTS  OF  CHRIST'S  MANIFESTATION. 


63 


"But  though  He  had  done  so  many  signs  before  them,  yet  they 
beheved  not  on  Him  :  that  the  word  of  Isaiah  the  prophet  might  be 
fulfilled,  which  he  spake,  Lord,  who  hath  believed  our  report  ?  and 
to  whom  hath  the  arm  of  the  Lord  been  revealed  ?  For  this  cause  they 
could  not  believe,  for  that  Isaiah  said  again,  He  hath  blinded  their 
eyes,  and  He  hardened  their  heart ;  lest  they  should  see  with  their  eyes, 
and  perceive  with  their  heart,  and  should  turn,  and  I  should  heal  them. 
These  things  said  Isaiah,  because  he  saw  His  glory  ;  and  he  spake  of 
Him.  Nevertheless  even  of  the  rulers  many  believed  on  Him ;  but 
because  of  the  Pharisees  they  did  not  confess  it,  lest  they  should  be 
put  out  of  the  synagogue  :  for  they  loved  the  glory  of  men  more  than 
the  glory  of  God.  And  Jesus  cried  and  said,  He  that  believeth  on  Me, 
believeth  not  on  Me,  but  on  Him  that  sent  Me.  And  he  that  beholdeth 
Me  beholdeth  Him  that  sent  Me.  I  am  come  a  light  into  the  world, 
that  whosoever  believeth  on  Me  may  not  abide  in  the  darkness.  And 
if  any  man  hear  My  sayings,  and  keep  them  not,  I  judge  him  not  : 
for  I  came  not  to  judge  the  world,  but  to  save  the  world.  He  that 
rejecteth  Me,  and  receiveth  not  My  sayings,  hath  One  that  judgeth 
him :  the  word  that  I  spake,  the  same  shall  judge  him  in  the  last  day. 
For  I  spake  not  from  Myself;  but  the  Father  which  sent  Me,  He  hath 
given  Me  a  commandment,  what  I  should  say,  and  what  I  should  speak. 
And  I  know  that  His  commandment  is  life  eternal :  the  things  therefore 
which  I  speak,  even  as  the  Father  hath  said  unto  Me,  so  I  speak." — 
John  xii.  37-50. 


64 


V. 

RESULTS  OF  CHRIST'S  MANIFESTATION 

IN  this  Gospel  the  death  of  Christ  is  viewed  as  the 
first  step  in  His  glorification.  When  He  speaks 
of  being  "  lifted  up,"  there  is  a  double  reference  in 
the  expression,  a  local  and  an  ethical  reference.^  He 
is  lifted  up  on  the  cross,  but  lifted  up  on  it  as  His 
true  throne  and  as  the  necessary  step  towards  His 
supremacy  at  God's  right  hand.  It  was,  John  tells 
us,  with  direct  reference  to  the  cross  that  Jesus  now 
used  the  words  :  "  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up,  will  draw  all 
men  unto  Me."  The  Jews,  who  heard  the  words, 
perceived  that,  whatever  else  was  contained  in  them, 
intimation  of  His  removal  from  earth  was  given.  But, 
according  to  the  current  Messianic  expectation,  the 
Christ  "  abideth  for  ever,"  or  at  any  rate  for  four 
hundred  or  a  thousand  years.  How  then  could  this 
Person,  who  announced  His  immediate  departure,  be 
the  Christ  ?  The  Old  Testament  gave  them  ground 
for  supposing  that  the  Messianic  reign  would  be  last- 
ing ;  but  had  they  listened  to  our  Lord's  teaching  they 
would  haver  learned  that  this  reign  was  spiritual,  and 
not  in  the  form  of  an  earthly  kingdom  with  a  visible 
sovereign. 

Accordingly,  although  they  had  recognised  Jesus  as 

'  See  iii.  14. 
VOL.    II.  65  c 


66  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


the  Messiah,  they  are  again  stumbled  by  this  fresh 
declaration  of  His.  They  begin  to  fancy  that  perhaps 
after  all  by  calling  Himself  "  the  Son  of  man  "  He 
has  not  meant  exactly  what  they  mean  by  the  Messiah. 
From  the  form  of  their  question  it  would  seem  that 
Jesus  had  used  the  designation  "the  Son  of  man" 
in  intimating  His  departure ;  for  they  say,  "  How  sayest 
thou.  The  Son  of  man  must  be  lifted  up  ? "  Up  to 
this  time,  therefore,  they  had  taken  it  for  granted  that 
by  calling  Himself  the  Son  of  man  He  claimed  to  be 
the  Christ,  but  now  they  begin  to  doubt  whether  there 
may  not  be  two  persons  signified  by  those  titles. 

Jesus  furnishes  them  with  no  direct  solution  of  their 
difficulty.  He  never  betrays  any  interest  in  these 
external  identifications.  The  time  for  discussing  the 
relation  of  the  Son  of  man  to  the  Messiah  is  past. 
His  manifestation  is  closed.  Enough  light  has  been 
given.  Conscience  has  been  appealed  to  and  discus- 
sion is  no  longer  admissible.  "Ye  have  light:  walk 
in  the  light."  The  way  to  come  to  a  settlement  of  all 
their  doubts  and  hesitations  is  to  follow  Him.  There 
is  still  time  for  that.  "  Yet  a  little  while  is  the  light 
among  you."  But  the  time  is  short ;  there  is  none 
to  waste  on  idle  questionings,  none  to  spend  on  sophis- 
ticating conscience — time  only  for  deciding  as  conscience 
bids. 

By  thus  believing  in  the  light  they  will  themselves 
become  "  children  of  light."  The  "  children  of  light  " 
are  those  who  live  in  it  as  their  element, — as  "the 
children  of  this  world  "  are  those  who  wholly  belong 
to  this  world  and  find  in  it  what  is  congenial ;  as  "  the 
son  of  perdition  "  is  he  who  is  identified  with  perdition. 
The  children  of  light  have  accepted  the  revelation  that 
is  in  Christ,  and  live  in  the  "  day "  that  the  Lord  has 


xii.37-5o]    RESULTS  OF  CHRIST'S  MANIFESTATION.     67 

made.  Christ  contains  the  truth  for  them — the  truth 
which  penetrates  to  their  inmost  thought  and  illu- 
minates the  darkest  problems  of  life.  In  Christ  they 
have  seen  that  which  determines  their  relation  to  God  ; 
and  that  being  determined,  all  else  that  is  of  prime 
importance  finds  a  settlement.  To  know  God  and 
ourselves ;  to  know  God's  nature  and  purpose,  and 
our  own  capabilities  and  relation  to  God, — these  con- 
stitute the  light  we  need  for  living  by ;  and  this  light 
Christ  gives.  It  was  in  a  dim,  uncertain  twilight,  with 
feebly  shining  lanterns,  the  wisest  and  best  of  men 
sought  to  make  out  the  nature  of  God  and  His  pur- 
poses regarding  man  ;  but  in  Christ  God  has  made 
noonday  around  us. 

They,  therefore,  that  stood,  or  that  stand,  in  His 
presence,  and  yet  recognise  no  light,  must  be  asleep, 
or  must  turn  away  from  an  excess  of  light  that  is 
disagreeable  or  inconvenient.  If  we  are  not  the  fuller 
of  life  and  joy  the  more  truth  we  know,  if  we  shrink 
from  admitting  the  consciousness  of  a  present  and  holy 
God,  and  do  not  feel  it  to  be  the  very  sunshine  of  life 
in  which  alone  we  thrive,  we  must  be  spiritually  asleep 
or  spiritually  dead.  And  this  cry  of  Christ  is  but 
another  form  of  the  cry  that  His  Church  has  prolonged  : 
"Awake,  thou  that  sleepest,  and  arise  from  the  dead, 
and  Christ  shall  give  thee  light." 

The  "  little  while  "  of  their  enjoyment  of  the  light 
was  short  indeed,  for  no  sooner  had  He  made  an  end 
of  these  sayings  than  He  "  departed,  and  did  hide  Him- 
self from  them."  He  probably  found  retirement  from 
the  feverish,  inconstant,  questioning  crowd  with  His 
friends  in  Bethany.  At  any  rate  this  removal  of  the 
light,  while  it  meant  darkness  to  those  who  had  not 
received  Him  and  who  did  not  keep  His  words,  could 


68  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

bring  no  darkness  to  His  own,  who  had  received  Him 
and  the  light  in  Him.  Perhaps  the  best  comment  on 
this  is  the  memorable  passage  from  Comus : 

"Virtue  could  see  to  do  what  virtue  would 
By  her  own  radiant  light,  though  sun  and  moon 
Were  in  the  great  sea  sunk. 
He  that  has  light  within  his  own  clear  breast 
May  sit  i'  the  centre  and  enjoy  bright  day  ; 
But  he  that  hides  a  dark  soul  and  foul  thoughts 
Benighted  walks  under  the  midday  sun, 
Himself  is  his  own  dungeon." 

And  now  the  writer  of  this  Gospel,  before  entering 
upon  the  closing  scenes,  pauses  and  presents  a  sum- 
mary of  the  results  of  all  that  has  been  hitherto  related. 
First,  he  accounts  for  the  unbelief  of  the  Jews.  It 
could  not  fail  to  strike  his  readers  as  remarkable  that, 
"  though  He  had  done  so  many  miracles  before  the 
people,  yet  they  believed  not  in  Him."  Jn  this  John 
sees  nothing  inexplicable,  however  sad  and  significant 
it  may  be.'  At  first  sight  it  is  an  astounding  fact  that 
the  very  people  who  had  been  prepared  to  recognise 
and  receive  the  Messiah  should  not  have  believed 
in  Him.  Might  not  this  to  some  minds  be  convinc- 
ing evidence  that  Jesus  was  not  the  Messiah  ?  If 
the  same  God  who  sent  Him  forth  had  for  centuries 
specially  prepared  a  people  to  recogiiise  and  receive 
Him  when  He  came,  was  it  possible  that  this  people 
should  repudiate  Him  ?  Was  it  Hkely  that  such  a 
result  should  be  produced  or  should  be  allowed  ?  But 
John  turns  the  point  of  this  argument  by  showing  that 
a  precisely  similar  phenomenon  had  often  appeared  in 
the  history  of  Israel.  The  old  prophets  had  the  very 
same  complaint  to  make :  "  Who  hath  believed  our 
report  ?  and  to  whom  hath  the  arm  of  the  Lord  been 
revealed?"     The    people    had  habitually,  as  a  people 


xii.37-5o.]     RESULTS  OF  CHRIST'S  MANIFESTATION.      69 

with  individual  exceptions,  refused  to  listen  to  God's 
voice  or  to  acknowledge  His  presence  in  prophet  and 
providence. 

Besides,  might  it  not  very  well  be  that  the  blindness 
and  callousness  of  the  Jews  in  rejecting  Jesus  was  the 
inevitable  issue  of  a  long  process  of  hardening  ?  If,  in 
former  periods  of  their  history,  they  had  proved  them- 
selves unworthy  of  God's  training  and  irresponsive  to 
it,  what  else  could  be  expected  than  that  they  should 
reject  the  Messiah  when  He  came  ?  This  hardening 
and  blinding  process  was  the  inevitable,  natural  result 
of  their  past  conduct.  But  what  nature  does,  God 
does  ;  and  therefore  the  Evangelist  says  "  they  could 
not  believe,  because  that  Esaias  said  again.  He  hath 
blinded  their  eyes,  and  hardened  their  heart ;  that  they 
should  not  see  with  their  eyes,  nor  understand  with 
their  heart."  The  organ  for  perceiving  spiritual  truth 
was  blinded,  and  their  susceptibility  to  religious  and 
•moral  impressions  had  become  callous  and  hardened 
and  impervious. 

.  And  while  this  was  no  doubt  true  of  the  people  as 
a  whole,  still  there  were  not  a  few  individuals  who 
eagerly  responded  to  this  last  message  from  God.  In 
the  most  unlikely  quarters,  and  in  circumstances  cal- 
culated to  counteract  the  influence  of  spiritual  forces, 
some  were  convinced.  "Even  among  the  chief  rulers 
many  believed  on  Him."  This  belief,  however,  did 
not  tell  upon  the  mass,  because,  through  fear  of  excom- 
munication, those  who  were  convinced  dared  not  utter 
their  conviction.  "  They  loved  the  praise  of  men  more 
than  the  praise  of  God."  They  allowed' their  relations 
to  men  to  determine  their  relation  to  God.  Men  were 
more  real  to  them  than  God.  The  praise  of  men  came 
home  to  their  hearts   with   a  sensible  relish  that  the 


70  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

praise  of  God  could  not  rival.  They  reaped  what  they 
had  sown  ;  they  had  sought  the  esteem  of  men,  and 
now  they  were  unable  to  find  their  strength  in  God's 
approval.  The  glory  which  consisted  in  following  the 
lowly  and  outcast  Jesus,  the  glory  of  fellowship  with 
God,  was  quite  eclipsed  b}'  the  glory  of  living  in  the 
eye  of  the  people  as  wise  and  estimable  persons. 

In  the  last  paragraph  of  the  chapter  John  gives  a 
summary  of  the  claims  and  message  of  Jesus.  He  has 
told  us  (ver.  36)  that  Jesus  had  departed  from  public 
view  and  had  hidden  Himself,  and  he  mentions  no 
return  to  pubHcity.  It  is  therefore  probable  that  in 
these  remaining  verses,  and  before  he  turns  to  a  some- 
what different  aspect  of  Christ's  ministry,  he  gives  in 
rapid  and  brief  retrospect  the  sum  of  what  Jesus  had 
advanced  as  His  claim.  He  introduces  this  paragraph, 
indeed,  with  the  words,  "Jesus  cried  and  said";  but  as 
neither  time  nor  place  is  mentioned,  it  is  quite  Hkely 
that  no  special  time  or  place  is  supposed ;  and  in  point 
of  fact  each  detail  adduced  in  these  verses  can  be 
paralleled  from  some  previously  recorded  utterance  of 
Jesus. 

First,  then,  as  everywhere  in  the  Gospel,  so  here,  He 
claims  to  be  the  representative  of  God  in  so  close  and 
perfect  a  manner  that  "he  that  believeth  on  Me,  be- 
lieveth  not  on  Me,  but  on  Him  that  sent  Me,  And  he 
that  seeth  Me,  seeth  Him  that  sent  Me."  No  belief 
terminates  in  Christ  Himself:  to  believe  in  Him  is  to 
believe  in  God,  because  all  that  He  is  and  does  proceeds 
from  God  and  leads  to  God.  The  whole  purpose  of 
Christ's  manifestation  was  to  reveal  God.  He  did  not 
wish  to  arrest  thought  upon  Himself,  but  through  Him- 
self to  guide  thought  to  Him  whom  He  revealed.  He 
was  sustained  by  the  Father,  and  all  He  said  and  did  was 


xii.37-SO-]    RESULTS  OF  CHRIST'S  MANIFESTATION.     71 

of  the  Father's  inspiration.  Whoever,  therefore,  "  saw  " 
or  understood  Him  "saw"  the  Father;  and  whoever 
believed  in  Him  believed  in  the  Father. 

Second,  as  regards  men.  He  is  "  come  a  light  into  the 
world."  Naturally  there  is  in  the  world  no  sufficient 
light.  Men  feel  that  they  are  in  darkness.  They  feel 
the  darkness  all  the  more  appalling  and  depressing  the 
more  developed  their  own  human  nature  is.  "  More 
light "  has  been  the  cry  from  the  beginning.  What  are 
we  ?  where  are  we  ?  whence  are  we  ?  whither  are  we 
going  ?  what  is  there  above  and  beyond  this  world  ? 
These  questions  are  echoed  back  from  an  unanswering 
void,  until  Christ  comes  and  gives  the  answer.  Since 
He  came  men  have  felt  that  they  did  not  any  longer 
walk  in  darkness.  They  see  where  they  are  going,  and 
they  see  why  they  should  go. 

And  if  it  be  asked,  as  among  the  Jews  it  certainly 
must  have  been  asked,  why,  if  Jesus  is  the  Messiah, 
does  He  not  punish  men  for  rejecting  Him  ?  the  answer 
is,  "  I  came  not  to  judge  the  world,  but  to  save  the 
world."  Judgment,  indeed,  necessarily  results  from 
His  coming.  Men  are  divided  by  His  coming.  "  The 
words  that  I  have  spoken,  the  same  shall  judge  men  in 
the  last  day."  The  offer  of  God,  the  offer  of  righteous- 
ness, is  that  which  judges  men.  Why  are  they  still 
dead,  when  life  has  been  offered  ?  This  is  the  con- 
demnation. "  The  commandment  of  the  Father  is  life 
everlasting."  This  is  the  sum  of  the  message  of  God 
to  men  in  Christ ;  this  is  "  the  commandment  "  which 
the  Father  has  given  Me  ;  this  is  Christ's  commission  : 
to  bring  God  in  the  fulness  of  His  grace  and  love  and 
life-giving  power  within  men's  reach.  It  is  to  give  life 
eternal  to  men  that  God  has  come  to  them  in  Christ. 
To  refuse  that  life  is  their  condemnation. 


VI. 

THE  FOOJ-IV ASHING. 


73 


"Now  before  the  feast  of  the  Passover,  Jesus  knowing  that  His  hour 
was  come  that  He  should  depart  out  of  this  world  unto  the  Father, 
having  loved  His  own  which  were  in  the  world,  He  loved  them  unto  the 
end.  And  during  supper,  the  devil  having  already  put  into  the  heart  of 
Judas  Iscariot,  Simon's  son,  to  betray  Him,  Jesus,  knowing  th^t  the 
Father  had  given  all  things  into  His  hands,  and  that  He  came  forth 
from  God,  and  goeth  unto  God,  riseth  from  supper,  and  layeth  aside 
His  garments;  and  He  took  a  towel,  and  girded  Himself.  Then  He 
poureth  water  into  the  basin,  and  began  to  wash  the  disciples'  feet,  and 
to  wipe  them  with  the  towel  wherewith  He  was  girded.  So  He  cometh 
to  Simon  Peter.  He  saith  unto  Him,  Lord,  dost  Thou  wash  my  feet  ? 
Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  him,  What  I  do  thou  knowest  not  now  ; 
but  thou  shalt  understand  hereafter.  Peter  saith  unto  Him,  Thou  shall 
never  wash  my  feet.  Jesus  answered  him,  If  I  wash  thee  not,  thou  hast 
no  part  with  Me.  Simon  Peter  saith  unto  Him,  Lord,  not  my  feet  only, 
but  also  my  hands  and  my  head.  Jesus  saith  to  him,  He  that  is  bathed 
needeth  not  save  to  wash  his  feet,  but  is  clean  every  whit :  and  ye  are 
clean,  but  not  all.  For  He  knew  him  that  should  betray  Him  ;  there- 
fore said  He,  Ye  are  not  all  clean.  So  when  He  had  washed  their  feet, 
and  taken  His  garments,  and  sat  down  again,  He  said  unto  them.  Know 
ye  what  I  have _don_e_to  you?  Ye  call  Me,  Master,  and,  Lord:  and  ye 
say  well ;  for  so  I  am.  If  I  then,  the  Lord  and  the  Master,  have  washed 
your  feet,  ye  also  ought  to  wash  one  another's  feet.  For  I  have  given 
you  an  example,  that  ye  also  should  do  as  I  have  done  to  you.  Verily, 
verily,  I  say  unto  you,  A  servant  is  not  greater  than  his  lord ;  neither 
one  that  is  sent  greater  than  he  that  sent  him.  If  ye  know  these 
things,  blessed  are  ye  if  ye  do  them." — John  xiii.  1-17. 


74 


VI. 

THE  FOOT-WASHING. 

ST.  JOHN,  having  finished  his  account  of  the  public 
manifestation  of  Jesus,  proceeds  now  to  narrate 
the  closing  scenes,  in  which  the  disclosures  He  made 
to  "  His  own  "  form  a  chief  part.  That  the  transition  ] 
may  be  observed,  attention  is  drawn  to  it.  At  earlier  I 
stages  of  our  Lord,'s  ministry  He  has  given  as  His  ^  V. 
reason  for  refraining  from  proposed  lines  of  action  that 
His  hour  was  not  come  :  now  He  "  knew  that  His  hour 
was  come,  that  He  should  depart  out  of  this  world 
unto  the  Father."  This  indeed  was  the  last  evening  of 
His  life.  Within  twenty-four  hours  He  was  to  be  in 
the  tomb.  Yet  according  to  this  writer  it  was  not  the 
paschal  supper  which  our  Lord  now  partook  of  with 
His  disciples  ;  it  was  "  before  the  feast  of  the  Passover." 
Jesus  being  Himself  the  Paschal  Lamb  was  sacrificed 
on  the  day  on  which  the  Passover  was  eaten,  and  in 
this  and  the  following  chapters  we  have  an  account  oi 
the  preceding  evening. 

In   order   to  account  for   what   follows,   the  precise   ,  ^ 
time  is  defined  in  the  words  ''  supper  being  served  "  ^ 
or    "supper-time'   having    arrived";    not,    as    in    the 
Authorised    Version,    "  supper    being    ended,"    which 


*  Compare  Mark  vi.  2,  ytvo/j-evou  aa^^arov ;  and  the  Latin  "  posita 
mensa." 

75 


/ 


76  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

plainly  was  not  the  case ;  ^  nor,  as  in  the  Revised 
Version,  "  during  supper."  The  difficulty  about  wash- 
ing the  feet  could  not  have  arisen  after  or  during  supper, 
but  only  as  the  guests  entered  and  reclined  at  table. 
In  Palestine,  as  in  other  countries  of  the  same  latitude, 
shoes  were  not  universally  worn,  and  were  not  worn 
at  all  within  doors ;  and  where  some  protection  to  the 
foot  was  worn,  it  was  commonly  a  mere  sandal,  a  sole 
tied  on  with  a  thong.  The  upper  part  of  the  foot  was 
thus  left  exposed,  and  necessarily  became  heated  and 
dirty  with  the  fine  and  scorching  dust  of  the  roads. 
Much  discomfort  was  thus  produced,  and  the  first  duty 
of  a  host  was  to  provide  for  its  removal.  A  slave  was 
ordered  to  remove  the  sandals  and  wash  the  feet.^  And 
in  order  that  this  might  be  done,  the  guest  either  sat 
on  the  couch  appointed  for  him  at  table,  or  reclined  with 
his  feet  protruding  beyond  the  end  of  it,  that  the  slave, 
coming  round  with  the  pitcher  and  basin,^  might  pour 
cool  water  gently  over  them.  So  necessary  to  comfort 
was  this  attention  that  our  Lord  reproached  the  Pharisee 
who  had  invited  Him  to  dinner  with  a  breach  of  courtesy 
because  he  had  omitted  it. 

On  ordinary  occasions  it  is  probable  that  the  disciples 
would  perform  this  humble  office  by  turns,  where  there 
was  no  slave  to  discharge  it  for  all.  But  this  evening, 
when  they  gathered  for  the  last  supper,  all. took  their 
places  at  the  table  with  a  studied  ignorance  of  the 
necessity,  a  feigned  unconsciousness  that  any  such 
attention  was  required.  As  a  matter  of  course,  the 
pitcher  of  cool  water,  the  basin,  and  the  towel  had 
been  set  as  part  of  the  requisite  furnishing  of  the  supper 
chamber ;  but  no  one  among  the  disciples  betrayed  the 

'  See  ver.  2.  '^  {iiroMere,  ir aides,  /cat  aTrovi^eTe. 

'  The  "  liisht  "  and  "ibiick"  of  niodein  I'alesliiie. 


xiii.  1-17.]                    THE  FOOT-WASHING.                               77 
^ 

slightest    consciousness    that   he   understood   that   any 
such  custom   existed.     Why  was  this?     Because,   as  / 
Luke   tells    us  (xxii.   24),    "  there    had   arisen    among       -^ 
them  a  contention,  which  of  them  is  accounted   to  be 
the  greatest."     Beginning,  perhaps,  by  discussing  the 
prospects  of  their  Master's  kingdom,  they  had  passed 
on"  to  compare  the  importance  of  this  or  that  faculty  for 
forwarding  the  interests  of  the  kingdom,  and  had  ended 
by  easily  recognised  personal  allusions  and  even  the 
direct  pitting  of  man  against  man.     The  assumption  of 
superiority  on  the  part  of  the  sons  of  Zebedee  and  others 
was  called  in  question,  and  it  suddenly  appeared  how 
this  assumption  had  galled  the  rest  and  rankled  in  their 
minds.     That  such  a  discussion  should  arise  may  be 
disappointing,  but  it  was  natural.     All  men  are  jealous  \ 
of  their  reputation,  and  crave  that  credit  be  given  them 
for  their  natural  talent,  their  acquired  skill,  their  pro-  \ 
fessional  standing,  their  influence,  or  at  any  rate  for    • 
their  humility. 

Heated,  then,  and  angry  and  full  of  resentment  these  V 
men  hustle  into  the  supper-room  and  seat  themselves 
like  so  many  sulky  schoolboys.  They  streamed  into 
the  room  and  doggedly  took  their  places ;  and  then  came 
a  pause.  For  any  one  to  wash  the  feet  of  the  rest  was_\/ 
to  declare  himself  the  servant  of  all;  and  that  was 
precisely  what  each  one  was  resolved  he,  for  his  part, 
would  not  do.  No  one  of  them  had  humour  enough 
to  see  the  absurdity  of  the  situation.  No  one  of  them 
was  sensitive  enough  to  be  ashamed  of  showing  such  a 
temper  in  Christ's  presence.  There  they  sat,  looking 
at  the  table,  looking  at  the  ceiling,  arranging  their  dress, 
each  resolved  upon  this — that  he  would  not  be  the  man 
to  own  himself  servant  of  all. 

But  this  unhealthy  heat  quite  unfits  them  to  listen  to 


78  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

what  their  Lord  has  to  say  to  them  that  last  evenmg. 
Occupied  as  they  are,  not  with  anxiety  about  Him  nor 
with  absorbing  desire  for  the  prosperity  of  His  kingdom, 
but  with  selfish  ambitions  that  separate  them  alike 
from  Him  and  from  one  another,  how  can  they  receive 
what  He  has  to  say  ?  But  how  is  He  to  bring  them 
v;  into  a  state  of  mind  in  which  they  can  listen  wholly 
and  devotedly  to  Him  ?  How  is  He  to  quench  their 
lieated  passions  and  stir  within  them  humility  and  love  ? 
"  He  riseth  from  the  supper-table,  and  laid  aside  His 
garments,  and  took  a  towel,  and  girded  Himself.  After 
that  He  poureth  water  into  the  basin,  and  began  to 
wash  the  disciples'  feet,  and  to  wipe  them  with  the 
\  towel  wherewith  He  was  girded."  Each  separate 
'  I  action  is  a  fresh  astonishment  and  a  deeper  shame 
I  to  the  bewildered  and  conscience-stricken  disciples. 
"  Who  is  not  able  to  picture  the  scene, r— the  faces  of 
John  and  James  and  Peter;  the  intense  silence,  in 
which  each  movement  of  Jesus  was  painfully  audible ; 
the  furtive  watching  of  Him,  as  He  rose,  to  see  what 
He  would  do ;  the  sudden  pang  of  self-reproach  as 
they  perceived  what  it  meant ;  the  bitter  humiliation 
and  the  burning  shame  ?  " 

But  not  only  is  the  time  noted,  in  order  that  we 
may  perceive  the  relevancy  of  the  foot -washing,  but  the 
Evangelist  steps  aside  from  his  usual  custom  and  de- 
scribes the  mood  of  Jesus  that  we  may  more  deeply 
penetrate  into  the  significance  of  the  action.  Around 
this  scene  in  the  supper-chamber  St.  John  sets  lights 
which  permit  us  to  see  its  various  beauty  and  grace. 
And  first  of  all  he  would  have  us  notice  what  seems 
chiefly  to  have  struck  himself  as  from  time  to  time  he 
reflected  on  this  last  evening — that  Jesus,  even  in  these 
last  hours,  was  wholly  possessed  and  governed  by  love. 


xiii.  1-17.]  THE  FOOT-WASHING.  79 

Although  He  knew  "that  His  hour  had  come,  that  He      ^ 
should  depart  out  of  this  world  unto  the  Father,  yet 
having  loved   His    own  which  were  in  the  world  He 
loved  them  unto  the  end."     Already  the  deep  darkness 
of  the  coming  night  was  touching  the  spirit  of  Jesus 
with  its   shadow.     Already   the  pain  of  the   betrayal, 
the  lonely  desolation  of  desertion  by  His  friends,  the 
defenceless  exposure    to    fierce,   unjust,  ruthless   men, 
the  untried  misery  of  death  and  dissolution,  the  critical 
trial  of  His  cause  and  of  all  the  labour  of  His  life,  these 
and    many   anxieties    that  cannot    be    imagined,    were 
pouring  in  upon  His  spirit,  wave  upon  wave.     If  ever  ) 
man  might  have  been  excused  for  absorption  in  His  own  V^ 
affairs  Jesus  was  then  that  man.     On  the  edge  of  what  j 
He   knew    to  be    the  critical    passage  in   the  world's  '^ 
history,  what  had  He  to  do  attending  to  the  comfort   %/ 
and  adjusting  the  silly  differences  of  a  few  unworthy 
men  ?     With  the  weight  of  a  world  on  His  arm,  was 
He  to  have  His  hands  free  for  such  a  trifling  atten- 
tion as  this  ?     With  His  whole  soul  pressed  with  the 
heaviest  burden  ever  laid  on  man,  was  it  to  be  expected 
■He  should  turn  aside  at  such  a  call  ? 

But  His  love  made  it  seem  no  turning  aside  at  all. 
His   love   had   made  Him  wholly   theirs,  and   though 
standing  on  the  brink   of  death   He   was  disengaged 
to  do  them  the  slightest  service.     His  love  was  love,   )    y^ 
devoted,  enduring,  constant.     He  had  loved  them,  and  ' 
He  loved  them  still.     It  was  their  condition  which  had  ' 
brought  Him  into  the  world,  and  His  love  for  them 
was  that  which  would  carry  Him  through  all  that  was 
before  Him.     The  very  fact   that  they  showed  them- 
selves still  so  jealous  and  childish,  so  unfit  to  cope  with 
the  world,  drew  out  His  affection  towards  them.     He 
was  departing  from  the  world  and  they  were  remaining 


it 


80  .  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

in  it,  exposed  to  all  its  opposition  and  destined  to  bear 
the  brunt  of  hostility  directed  against  Him — how  then 
can  He  but  pity  and  strengthen  them  ?  Nothing  is 
more  touching  on  a  death-bed  than  to  see  the  sufferer 
hiding  and  making  light  of  his  own  pain,  and  turning 
the  attention  of  those  around  him  away  from  him  to 
themselves,  and  making  arrangements,  not  for  his  own 
relief,  but  for  the  future  comfort  of  others.  This  which 
has  often  dimmed  with  tears  the  eyes  of  the  bystanders 
struck  John  when  he  saw  his  Master  ministering  to  the 
wants  of  His  disciples,  although  He  knew  that  His  own 
hpur  had  come. 

Another  side-light  which  serves  to  bring  out  the  full 
significance  of  this  action  is  Jesus'  consciousness  of  His 
own  dignity.  "Jesus,  knowing  that  the  Father  had 
given  all  things  into  His  hands,  and  that  He  came  forth 
from  God,  and  goeth  unto  God,"  riseth  from  supper,  and 
took  a  towel  and  girded  Himself.  It  was  not  in  forget- 
fulness  of  His  Divine  origin,  but  in  full  consciousness 
of  it,  He  discharged  this  menial  function.  As  He  had 
divested  Himself  of  the  "  form  of  God  "  at  the  first, 
stripping  Himself  of  the  outward  glory  attendant  on 
recognised  Divinity,  and  had  taken  upon  Him  the  form 
of  a  servant,  so  now  He  "laid  aside  His  garments 
and  girded  Himself,"  assuming  the  guise  of  a  household 
slave.  For  a  fisherman  to  pour  water  over  a  fisher- 
man's feet  was  no  great  condescension  ;  but  that  He,  in 
whose  hands  are  all  human  affairs  and  whose  nearest 
relation  is  the  Father,  should  thus  condescend  is  of 
unparalleled  significance.  It  is  this  kind  of  action  that 
is  suitable  to  One  whose  consciousness  is  Divine.  Not 
only  does  the  dignity  of  Jesus  vastly  augment  the 
beauty  of  the  action,  but  it  sheds  new  light  on  the 
Divine  character. 


xiii.  i-i;.]  THE  FOOT-WASHING.  8i 

Still  another  circumstance  which  seemed  to  John  to  '\  '^ 
accentuate  the  grace  of  the  foot-washing  was  this — that 
Judas  was  among  the  guests,  and  that  "the  devil  had 
now  put  into  the  heart  of  Judas  Iscariot,  Simon's  son, 
to  betray  him."  The  idea  had  at  last  formed  itself  in 
Judas'  mind  that  the  best  use  he  could  make  of  Jesus 
was  to  sell  Him  to  His  enemies.  His  hopes  of  gain  in 
the  Messianic  kingdom  were  finally  blighted,  but  he 
might  still  make  something  out  of  Jesus  and  save  him- 
self from  all  implication  in  a  movement  frowned  upon 
by  the  authorities.  He  clearly  apprehended  that  all 
hopes  of  a  temporal  kingdom  were  gone.  He  had 
probably  not  strength  of  mind  enough  to  say  candidly 
that  he  had  joined  the  company  of  disciples  on  a  false 
understanding,  and  meant  now  quietly  to  return  to  his 
trading  at  Kerioth.  If  he  could  break  up  the  whole 
movement,  he  would  be  justified  in  his  dissatisfaction, 
and  would  also  be  held  to  be  a  useful  servant  of  the 
nation.  So  he  turns  traitor.  And  John  does  not 
whitewash  him,  but  plainly  brands  him  as  a  traitor. 
Now,  much  may  be  forgiven  a  man  ;  but  treachery — 
what  is  to  be  done  with  it ;  with  the  man  who  uses  the 
knowledge  only  a  friend  can  have,  to  betra}^  you  to 
your  enemies  ?  Suppose  Jesus  had  unmasked  him  to 
Peter  and  the  rest,  would  he  ever  have  left  that  room 
alive?  Instead  of  unmasking  him,  Jesus  makes  no!  ^ 
difference  between  him  and  the  others,  kneels  by  his  ; 
couch,  takes  his  feet  in  His  hands,  washes  and  gently 
dries  them.  However  difficult  it  is  to  understand  why 
Jesus  chose  Judas  at  the  first,  there  can  be  no  question  '< 

that  throughout  His  acquaintance  with  him  He  had 
done  all  that  was  possible  to  win  him.  The  kind  of 
treatment  Judas  had  received  throughout  may  be 
inferred  from  the  treatment  he   received  now.     Jesus 

VOL.    II.  6 


82  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

knew  him  to  be  a  man  of  a  low  type  and  impenitent ; 
He  knew  him  to  be  at  that  very  time  out  of  harmony 
with  the  Httle  company,  false,  plotting,  meaning  to  save 
himself  by  bringing  ruin  on  the  rest.  Yet  Jesus  will 
not  denounce  him  to  the  others.  His  sole  weapon  is 
love.  Conquests  which  He  cannot  achieve  with  this 
He  will  not  achieve  at  all.  In  the  person  of  Judas  the 
utmost  of  malignity  the  world  can  show  is  present 
to  Him,  and  He  meets  it  with  kindness.  Well  may 
Astie  exclaim  :  "  Jesus  at  the  feet  of  the  traitor — what 
a  picture  !  what  lessons  for  us  ! " 

Shame  and  astonishment  shut  the  mouths  of  the 
disciples,  and  not  a  sound  broke  the  stillness  of  the 
room  but  the  tinkle  and  plash  of  the  water  in  the  basin 
as  Jesus  went  from  couch  to  couch.  But  the  silence 
was  broken  when  He  came  to  Peter.  The  deep  reve- 
rence which  the  disciples  had  contracted  for  Jesus 
betrays  itself  in  Peter's  inability  to  suffer  Him  to  touch 
his  feet.  '  Peter  could  not  endure  that  the  places  of 
master  and  servant  should  thus  be  reversed.  He  feels 
that  shrinking  and  revulsion  which  we  feel  when  a 
delicate  person  or  one  much  above  us  in  station  pro- 
ceeds to  do  some  service  from  which  we  ourselves 
would  shrink  as  beneath  us.  That  Peter  should  have 
drawn  up  his  feet,  started  up  on  the  couch,  and 
exclaimed,  "  Lord,  do  you  actually  propose  to  wash  my 
feet ! "  is  to  his  credit,  and  just  what  we  should  have 
expected  of  a  man  who  never  lacked  generous  impulses. 
Our  Lord  therefore  assures  him  that  his  scruples  will 
be  removed,  and  that  what  he  could  not  understand 
would  be  shortly  explained  to  him.  He  treats  Peter's 
scruples  very  much  as  He  treated  the  Baptist's  when 
John  hesitated  about  baptizing  Him.  Let  Me,  says 
Jesus,  do  it  now,  and  I  will  explain  My  reason  when 


xiii.  I -1 7.]  THE  FOOT-WASHING.  83 

I  have  finished  the  washing  of  you  all.  But  this  does 
not  satisfy  Peter.  Out  he  comes  with  one  of  his  blunt 
and  hasty  speeches  :  "  Lord,  Thou  shalt  never  wash  my 
feet ! "  He  knew  better  than  Jesus,  that  is  to  say,  what 
should  be  done.  Jesus  was  mistaken  in  supposing 
that  any  explanation  could  be  given  of  it.  Hasty,  self- 
confident,  knowing  better  than  anybody  else,  Peter  >-l.  V 
once  again  ran  himself  into  grave  fault.  The  first 
requirement  in  a  disciple  is  entire  self-surrender.  The 
others  had  meekly  allowed  Jesus  to  wash  their  feet, 
cut  to  the  heart  with  shame  as  they  were,  and  scarcely 
able  to  let  their  feet  lie  in  His  hands ;  but  Peter  must 
show  himself  of  a  different  mind.  His  first  refusal  was 
readily  forgiven  as  a  generous  impulse ;  the  second  is 
an  obstinate,  proud,  self-righteous  utterance,  and  was 
forthwith  met  by  the  swift  rebuke  of  Jesus  :  "  If  I  wash 
thee  not,  thou  hast  no  part  with  Me." 

Superficially,  these  words  might  have  been  understood 
as  intimating  to  Peter  that,  if  he  wished  to  partake  of 
the  feast  prepared,  he  must  allow  Jesus  to  wash  his 
feet.  Unless  he  was  prepared  to  leave  the  room  and 
reckon  himself  an  outcast  from  that  company,  he  must 
submit  to  the  feet-washing  which  his  friends  and  fellow- 
guests  had  submitted  to.  There  was  that  in  the  tone 
of  our  Lord  which  awakened  Peter  to  see  how  great 
and  painful  a  rupture  this  would  be.  He  almost  hears 
in  the  words  a  sentence  of  expulsion  pronounced  on 
himself;  and  as  rapidly  as  he  had  withdrawn  from  the  I 
touch  of  Christ,  so  rapidly  does  he  now  run  to  the  \ 
opposite  extreme  and  offer  his  whole  body  to  be  washed 
— "not  my  feet  only,  but  my  hands  and  my  head."  If 
this  washing  means  that  we  are  Thy  friends  and  part- 
ners, let  me  be  all  washed,  for  every  bit  of  me  is  Thine. 
Here  again  Peter  was  swayed  by  blind  impulse,  and 


84  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

here  again  he  erred.  If  he  could  only  have  been  quiet  1 
If  he  could  only  have  held  his  tongue  !  If  only  he 
could  have  allowed  his  Lord  to  manage  without  his 
interference  and  suggestion  at  every  point !  But  this 
was  precisely  what  Peter  had  as  yet  not  learned  to  do. 
In  after-years  he  was  to  learn  meekness ;  he  was  to 
learn  to  submit  while  others  bound  him  and  carried 
him  whither  they  would  ;  but  as  yet  that  was  impossible 
to  him.  His  Lord's  plan  is  never  good  enough  for 
him  ;  Jesus  is  never  exactly  right.  What  He  proposes 
must  always  be  eked  out  by  Peter's  superior  wisdom. 
What  gusts  of  shame  must  have  stormed  through 
Peter's  soul  when  he  looked  back  on  this  scene !  Yet 
it  concerns  us  rather  to  admire  than  to  condemn  Peter's 
fervour.  How  welcome  to  our  Lord  as  He  passed 
from  the  cold  and  treacherous  heart  of  Judas  must 
this  burst  of  enthusiastic  devotion  have  been  !  "  Lord, 
if  washing  be  any  symbol  of  my  being  Thine,  wash 
hands  and  head  as  well  as  feet." 

Jesus  throws  a  new  light  upon  His  action  in  His 
I  reply :  "  He  that  is  washed,  needeth  not  save  to  wash 
his  feet,  but  is  clean  every  whit  :  and  ye  are  clean,  but 
not  all."  The  words  would  have  more  readily  disclosed 
Christ's  meaning  had  they  been  literally  rendered :  He 
that  has  bathed  needeth  not  save  to  wash  his  feet. 
The  daily  use  of  the  bath  rendered  it  needless  to  wash 
more  than  the  feet,  which  were  soiled  with  walking 
from  the  bath  to  the  supper-chamber.  But  that  Christ 
had  in  view  as  He  washed  the  disciples'  feet  something 
more  than  the  mere  bodily  cleansing  and  comfort  is 
plain  from  His  remark  that  they  were  not  all  clean. 
All  had  enjoyed  the  feet-washing,  but  all  were  not 
clean.  The  feet  of  Judas  were  as  clean  as  the  feet 
of  John  or  Peter,  but  his  heart  was  foul.     And  what 


xiii.  i-iy.]  THE  FOOT-WASHING.  85 

Christ  intended  when  He  girt  Himself  with  the  towel 
and  took  up  the  pitcher  was  not  merely  to  wash  the 
soil  from  their  feet,  but  to  wash  from  their  hearts  the 
hard  and  proud  feelings  which  were  so  uncongenial  to 
that  night  of  communion  and  so  threatening  to  His 
cause.  Far  more  needful  to  their  happiness  at  the 
feast  than  the  comfort  of  cool  and  clean  feet  was  their 
restored  affection  and  esteem  for  one  another,  and  that 
humility  that  takes  the  lowest  place.  Jesus  could  very 
well  have  eaten  with  men  who  were  unwashed  ;  but  He 
could  not  eat  with  men  hating  one  another,  glaring 
fiercely  across  the  table,  declining  to  answer  or  to 
pass  what  they  were  asked  for,  showing  in  every 
way  malice  and  bitterness  of  spirit.  He  knew  that  at 
bottom  they  were  good  men ;  He  knew  that  with  one  •  , 
exception  they -loved  Him  and  one  another;  He  knew  1  ^ 
that  as  a  whole  they  were  clean,  and  that  this  vicious  J  ^  j^ 
temper  in  which  they  at  present  entered  the  room  was 
but  the  soil  contracted  for  the  hour.  But  none  the 
less  must  it  be  washed  off.  And  He  did  effectually 
wash  it  off  by  washing  their  feet.  For  was  there  a  man 
among  them  who,  when  he  saw  his  Lord  and  Master 
stooping  at  his  couch-foot,  would  not  most  gladly  have 
changed  places  with  Him  ?  Was  there  one  of  them 
who  was  not  softened  and  broken  down  by  the  action 
of  the  Lord  ?  Is  it  not  certain  that  shame  must  have 
cast  out  pride  from  every  heart;  that  the  feet  would 
be  very  little  thought  of,  but  that  the  change  of  feel- 
ing would  be  marked  and  obvious  ?  From  a  group 
of  angry,  proud,  insolent,  implacable,  resentful  men,^ 
they  were  in  five  minutes  changed  into  a  company 
of  humbled,  meek,  loving  disciples  of  the  Lord,  each 
thinking  hardly  of  himself  and  esteeming  others  better. 
They  were  effectually  cleansed  from  the  stain  they  had 


86  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

contracted,  and  could  enter  on  the  enjoyment  of  the 
Last  Supper  with  pure  conscience,  with  restored  and 
increased  affection  for  one  another,  and  with  deepened 
adoration  for  the  marvellous  wisdom  and  all-accom- 
plishing grace  of  their  Master. 

Jesus,  then,  does  not  mistake  present  defilement  for 
habitual  impurity,  nor  partial  stain  for  total  unclean- 

\  ness.  He  knows  whom  He  has  chosen.  He  under- 
stands the  difference  between  deep-seated  alienation 
of  spirit  and  the  passing  mood  which  for  the  hour 
disturbs  friendship.  He  discriminates  between  Judas 
and  Peter  :  between  the  man  who  has  not  been  in  the 
bath,  and  the  man  whose  feet  are  soiled  in  walking 
from  it ;  between  him  who  is  at  heart  unmoved  and 
unimpressed  by  His  love,  and  him  who  has  for  a  space 
fallen  from  the  consciousness  of  it.  He  does  not  sup- 
pose that  because  we  have  sinned  this  morning  we 
have  no  real  root  of  grace  in  us.  He  knows  the  heart 
we  bear  Him ;  and  if  just  at  present  unworthy  feelings 
prevail,  He  does  not  misunderstand  as  men  may,  and 
straightway  dismiss  us  from  His  company.  He  recog- 
nises that  our  feet  need  washing,  that  our  present  stain 
must  be  removed,  but  not  on  this  account  does  He 
think  we  need  to  be  all  washed  and  have  never  been 
right  in  heart  towards  Him. 

These  present  stains,  then,  Christ  seeks  to  remove, 
that  our  fellowship  with  Him  may  be  unembarrassed ; 
and  that  our  heart,  restored  to  humility  and  tenderness, 
may  be  in  a  state  to  receive  the  blessing   He  would 

I  bestow.  It  is  not  enough  to  be  once  forgiven,  to  begin 
the  day  "  clean  every  whit."     No  sooner  do  we  take  a 

'  step  in  the  life  of  the  day  than  our  footfall  raises  a 
little  puff  of  dust  which  does  not  settle  without  sullying 
us.     Our  temper  is  ruffled,  and  words  fall  from  our  lips 


xiii.  I-I7.]  THE  FOOT-WASHING.  87 

that  injure  and  exasperate.  In  one  way  or  other  stain 
attaches  to  our  conscience,  and  we  are  moved  away 
from  cordial  and  open  fellowship  with  Christ.  All  this 
happens  to  those  who  are  at  heart  as  truly  Christ's 
friends  as  those  first  disciples.  But  we  must  have 
these  stains  washed  away  even  as  they  had.  Humbly 
we  must  own  them,  and  humbly  accept  their  forgive- 
ness and  rejoice  in  their  removal.  As  these  men  had 
with  shame  to  lay  their  feet  in  Christ's  hands,  so  must 
we.  As  His  hands  had  to  come  in  contact  with  the 
soiled  feet  of  the  disciples,  so  has  His  moral  nature  to 
come  in  contact  with  the  sins  from  which  He  cleanses 
us.  His  heart  is  purer  than  were  His  hands,  and  He 
shrinks  more  from  contact  with  moral  than  with  physical 
pollution  ;  and  yet  without  ceasing  we  bring  Him  into 
contact  with  such  pollution.  When  we  consider  what 
those  stains  actually  are  from  which  we  must  ask 
Christ  to  wash  us,  we  feel  tempted  to  exclaim  with 
Peter,  "  Lord,  Thou  shalt  never  wash  my  feet ! "  As 
these  men  must  have  shivered  with  shame  through  all 
their  nature,  so  do  we  when  we  see  Christ  stoop  before 
us  to  wash  away  once  again  the  defilement  we  have 
contracted  ;  when  we  lay  our  feet  soiled  with  the  miry 
and  dusty  ways  of  life  in  His  sacred  hands  ;  when  we 
see  the  uncomplaining,  unreproachful  grace  with  which 
He  performs  for  us  this  lowly  and  painful  office.  But 
only  thus  are  we  prepared  for  communion  with  Him 
and  with  one  another.  Only  by  admitting  that  we 
need  cleansing,  and  by  humbly  allowing  Him  to  cleanse 
us,  are  we  brought  into  true  fellowship  with  Him. 
With  the  humble  and  contrite  spirit -which  has  thrown 
down  all  barriers  of  pride  and  freely  admits  His  love 
and  rejoices  in  His  holiness  does  He  abide.  Whoso 
sits  down  at  Christ's  table  must  sit  down   clean ;   he 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


may  not  have  come  clean,  even  as  those  first  guests 
were  not  clean,  but  he  must  allow  Christ  to  cleanse 
him,  must  honestly  suffer  Christ  to  remove  from  his 
heart,  from  his  desire  and  purpose,  all  that  He  counts 
defiling. 

But  our  Lord  was  not  content  to  let  His  action 
speak  for  itself;  He_expressly  explains  (vv.  12-17)  the 
r'^meaning  of  what  He  had  now  done.  He  meant  that 
'p.  --[  they  should  learn  to  wash  one  another's  feet,  to  be 
yOl  ^humble  and  ready  to  be  of  service  to  one  another  even 
■^  ^when  to  serve  seemed  to  compromise  their  dignity.^ 
No  disciple  of  Christ  need  go  far  to  find  feet  that  need 
washing,  feet  that  are  stained  or  bleeding  with  the 
hard  ways  that  have  been  trodden.  To  recover  men 
from  the  difficulties  into  which  sin  or  misfortune  has 
brought  them — to  wipe  off  some  of  the  soil  from  men's 
lives — to  make  them  purer,  sweeter,  readier  to  listen  to 
Christ,  even  unostentatiously  to  do  the  small  services 
which  each'  hour  calls  for — is  to  follow  Him  who  girt 
Himself  with  the  slave's  apron.  As  often  as  we  thus 
condescend  we  become  like  Christ.  By  putting  Him- 
self in  the  servant's  place,  our  Lord  has  consecrated  all 
service.  The  disciple  who  next  washed  the  feet  of  the 
rest  would  feel  that  he  was  representing  Christ,  and 
would  suggest  to  the  minds  of  the  others  the  action  of  J^ 
their  Lord  ;  and  as  often  as  we  lay  aside  the  conven-  ' 
tional  dignity  in  which  we  are  clad,  and  gird  ourselves 
to  do  what  others  despise,  we  feel  that  we  are  doing 
what  Christ  would  do,  and  are  truly  representing 
Him. 

'  For  the  formal  Foot-washing  by  the  Lord  High  Almoner,  the  Pope, 
or  other  officials,  see  Augustine's  Letters  LV.  ;  Herzpg  art.  Fuss- 
waschting ;  Smith's  Did.  of  Christian  Antiq.  art.  Ahrundy  Thursday. 


VII. 

JUDAS. 


89 


"  I  speak  not  of  you  all  :  I  know  whom  I  have  chosen  :  but  that 
the  Scripture  may  be  fulfilled,  He  that  eateth  My  bread  lifted  up  his 
heel  against  Me.  From  henceforth  I  tell  you  before  it  come  to  pass, 
that,  when  it  is  come  to  pass,  ye  may  believe  that  I  am  He.  Verily, 
verily,  I  say  unto  you,  He  that  receiveth  whomsoever  I  send  receiveth 
Me  ;  and  he  that  receiveth  Me  receiveth  Him  that  sent  Me.  When 
Jesus  had  thus  said,  He  was  troubled  in  the  spirit,  and  testified,  and 
said,  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  that  one  of  you  shall  betray  Me. 
The  disciples  looked  one  on  another,  doubting  of  whom  He  spake. 
There  was  at  the  table  reclining  in  Jesus'  bosom  one  of  His  disciples, 
whom  Jesus  loved.  Simon  Peter  therefore  beckoneth  to  him,  and  saith 
unto  him,  Tell  us  who  it  is  of  whom  He  speaketh.  He  leaning  back, 
as  he  was,  on  Jesus'  breast  saith  unto  Him,  Lord,  who  is  it  ?  Jesus 
therefore  answereth.  He  it  is,  for  whom  I  shall  dip  the  sop,  and  give 
it  to  him.  So  when  He  had  dipped  the  sop,  He  taketh  and  giveth  it 
to  Judas,  the  son  of  Simon  Iscariot.  And  after  the  sop,  then  entered 
Satan  into  him.  Jesus  therefore  saith  unto  him.  That  th«u  doest,  do 
quickly.  Now  no  man  at  the  table  knew  for  what  intent  He  spake  this 
unto  him.  For  some  thought,  because  Judas  had  the  bag,  that  Jesus 
said  unto  him,  Buy  what  things  we  have  need  of  for  the  feast ;  or,  that 
he  should  give  something  to  the  poor.  He  then  having  received  the 
sop  went  out  straightway  :  and  it  was  night." — ^John  xiii.  18-30. 


90 


VII. 

JUDAS. 

WHEN  Jesus  had  washed  the  disciples'  feet, 
apparently  in  dead  silence  save  for  the  inter- 
ruption of  Peter,  He  resumed  those  parts  of  His  dress 
He  had  laid  aside,  and  reclined  at  the  table  already 
spread  for  the  supper.  As  the  meal  began,  and  while 
He  was  explaining  the  meaning  of  His  act  and  the 
lesson  He  desired  them  to  draw  from  it,  John,  who  lay 
next  Him  at  table,  saw  that  His  face  did  not  wear  the 
expression  of  festal  joy,  nor  even  of  untroubled  com- 
posure, but  was  clouded  with  deep  concern  and  grief 
The  reason  of  this  was  immediately  apparent :  already, 
while  washing  Peter's  feet,  He  had  awakened  the  atten- 
tion and  excited  the  consciences  of  the  disciples  by 
hinting  that  on  some  one  of  them  at  least,  if  not  on 
more,  uncleansed  guilt  still  lay,  even  though  all  partook 
in  the  symbolic  washing.  And  now  in  His  explanation 
of  the  foot-washing  He  repeats  this  limitation  and  warn- 
ing, and  also  points  at  the  precise  nature  of  the  guilt, 
though  not  yet  singling  out  the  guilty  person.  "  I 
speak  not  of  you  all ;  I  know  whom  I  have  chosen ; 
I  have  not  been  deceived :  but  it  was  necessary  that 
this  part  of  God's  purpose  be  fulfilled,  and  that  this 
Scripture,  'He  that  eateth  bread  with  Me,  hath  lifted 
up  his  heel  against  Me,'  receive  accomplishment  in  Me." 

91 


92  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

It  was  impossible  that  Jesus  should  undisturbedly  eat 
out  of  the  same  dish  with  the  man  whom  He  knew  to 
have  already  sold  Him  to  the  priests ;  it  were  unfair  to 
the  other  disciples  and  a  violence  to  His  own  feehngs 
to  allow  such  a  man  any  longer  to  remain  in  their 
company.  But  our  Lord  does  not  name  the  traitor 
and  denounce  him  ;  he  singles  him  out  and  sends  him 
from  the  table  on  his  hateful  mission  by  a  process  that 
left  every  man  at  the  table  unaware  on  what  errand 
:  he  was  despatched.  In  this  process  there  were  three 
steps.  First  of  all,  our  Lord  indicated  that  among 
the  disciples  there  was  a  traitor.  With  dismay  these 
true-hearted  men  hear  the  firmly  pronounced  state- 
ment "one  o^ you  shall  betray  Me"  (ver.  2i).  All  of 
them,  as  another  Evangelist  informs  us,  were  exceeding 
sorrowful,  and  looked  on  one  another  in  bewilderment ; 
and  unable  to  detect  the  conscious  look  of  guilt  in  the 
face  of  any  of  their  companions,  or  to  recall  any  cir- 
cumstance which  might  fix  even  suspicion  on  any  of 
them,  each,  conscious  of  the  deep,  unfathomed  capacity 
for  evil  in  his  own  heart,  can  but  frankly  ask  of  the 
Master,  "Lord,  is  it  I?"  It  is  a  question  that  at 
once  proves  their  consciousness  of  actual  innocence  and 
possible  guilt.  It  was  a  kindness  in  the  Lord  to  give 
these  genuine  men,  who  were  so  shortly  to  go  through 
v^' .  trial  for  His  sake,  an  opportunity  of  discovering  how 
much  they  loved  Him  and  how  closely  knit  their  hearts 
had  really  become  to  Him.  This  question  of  theirs 
expressed  the  deep  pain  and  shame  that  the  very 
thought  of  the  possibility  of  their  being  false  to  Him 
gave  them.  They  must  at  all  hazards  be  cleared  of 
this  charge.  And  from  this  shock  of  the  very  idea  of 
being  untrue  their  hearts  recoiled  towards  Him  with 
an   enthusiastic    tenderness    that    made    this    moment 


\ 


xiii.  18-30.]  JUDAS.  93 

possibly  as  moving  a  passage  as  any  that  occurred 
that  eventful  night.  But  there  was  one  of  them  that 
did  not  join  in  the  question  "  Lord,  is  it  I  ?  " — else  must 
not  our  Lord  have  broken  silence  ?  The  Twelve  are 
still  left  in  doubt,  none  noticing  in  the  eagerness  of 
questioning  who  has  not  asked,  each  only  glad  to  know 
he  himself  is  not  charged. 

The  second  step  in  the  process  is  recorded  in  the 
26th  chapter  of  Matthew,  where  we  read  that,  when  the 
disciples  asked  "  Lord,  is  it  I  ?  "  Jesus  answered,  "  He  >\ 
that  dippeth  his  hand  with  Me  in  the  dish,  the  same 
shall  betray  Me."  It  was  a  large  company,  and  there 
were  necessarily  several  dishes  on  the  table,  so  that 
probably  there  were  three  others  using  the  same  dish 
as  our  Lord  :  John  we  know  was  next  Him  ;  Peter  was 
near  enough  tQ  John  to  make  signs  and  whisper  to 
him ;  Judas  was  also  close  to  Jesus,  a  position  which 
he  either  always  occupied  as  treasurer  and  purveyor 
of  the  company,  or  into  which  he  thrust  himself  this 
evening  with  the  purpose  of  more  effectually  screening 
himself  from  suspicion.  The  circle  of  suspicion  is  thus 
narrowed  to  the  one  or  two  who  were  not  only  so 
intimate  as  to  be  eating  at  the  same  table,  but  as  to 
be  dipping  in  the  same  dish. 

The  third  step  in  the  process  of  discovery  went  on 
almost  simultaneously  with  this.  The  impatient  Peter, 
who  had  hmiself  so  often  unwittingly  given  offence  to 
his  Master,  is  resolved  to  find  out  definitely  who  is 
pointed  at,  and  yet  dare  not  say  to  Christ  "  Who  is 
it  ? "  He  beckons  therefore  to  John  to  ask  Jesus 
privately,  as  he  lay  next  to  Jesus.  John  leans  a  little 
back  towards  Jesus  and  puts  in  a  whisper  the  definite 
question  "  Who  is  it  ? "  and  Jesus  in  the  ear  of  the 
beloved  disciple  whispers  the  reply,  "  He  it  is  to  whom 


94  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

I  shall  give  a  sop  when  I  have  dipped  it."  And  when 
He  had  dipped  the  sop,  He  gave  it  to  Judas  Iscariot. 
This  reveals  to  John,  bxit  to  no  one  else,  who  the 
traitor  was,  for  the  giving  of  the  sop  was  no  more  at 
that  table  than  the  handing  of  a  plate  or  the  offer  of 
any  article  of  food  is  at  any  table.  John  alone  knew 
the  significance  of  it.  But  Judas  had  already  taken 
alarm  at  the  narrowing  of  the  circle  of  suspicion,  and 
had  possibly  for  the  moment  ceased  dipping  in  the 
same  dish  with  Jesus,  lest  he  should  be  identified  with 
the  traitor.  Jesus  therefore  dips  for  him  and  offers 
him  the  sop  which  he  will  not  himself  take,  and  the 
look  that  accompanies  the  act,  as  well  as  the  act  itself, 
shows  Judas  that  his  treachery  is  discovered.  He 
therefore  mechanically  takes  up  in  a  somewhat  colder 
form  the  question  of  the  rest,  and  says,  "  Master,  is 
it  I  ?  "  His  fear  subdues  his  voice  to  a  whisper,  heard 
only  by  John  and  the  Lord  ;  and  the  answer,  "  Thou 
hast  said.-  That  thou  doest,  do  quickly,"  is  equally 
unobserved  by  the  rest.  Judas  need  fear  no  violence 
at  their  hands  ;  John  alone  knows  the  meaning  of  his 
abrupt  rising  and  hurrying  from  the  room,  and  John 
sees  that  Jesus  wishes  him  to  go  unobserved.  The 
rest,  therefore,  thought  only  that  Judas  was  going  out 
to  make  some  final  purchases  that  had  been  forgotten, 
or  to  care  for  the  poor  in  this  season  of  festivity.  But 
John  saw  differently.  "  The  traitor,"  he  says,  "  went 
immediately  out ;  and  it  was  night."  As  his  ill-omened, 
stealthy  figure  glided  from  the  chamber,  the  sudden 
night  of  the  Eastern  twilightless  sunset  had  fallen  on 
.the  company;  sadness,  silence,  and  gloom  fell  upon 
'^  J  John's  spirit ;  the  hour  of  darkness  had  at  length  fallen 
(^  in  the  very  midst  of  this  quiet  feast. 

This  sin  of  Judas  presents  us  with  one  of  the  most 


xiii.  18-30.]  JUDAS.  95 

perplexed  problems  of  life  and  character  that  the 
strange  circumstances  of  this  world  have  ever  pro- 
duced. Let  us  first  of  all  look  at  the  connection  of 
this  betrayal  with  the  life  of  Christ,  and  then  consider 
the  phase  of  character  exhibited  in  Judas.  In  connec- 
tion with  the  life  of  Christ  the  difficulty  is  to  under- 
stand why  the  death  of  Christ  was  to  be  brought  about 
in  this  particular  way  of  treachery  among  His  own 
followers.  It  may  be  said  that  it  came  to  pass  "  that 
Scripture  might  be  fulfilled,"  that  this  special  predic- 
tion in  the  41st  Psalm  might  be  fulfilled.  But  why 
was  such  a  prediction  made  ?  It  was  of  course  the 
event  which  determined  the  prediction,  not  the  pre- 
diction which  determined  the  event.  Was  it,  then,  an 
accident  that  Jesus  should  be  handed  over  to  the 
authorities  in  this  particular  way  ?  Or  was  there  any 
significance  in  it,  that  justifies  its  being  made  so 
prominent  in  the  narrative  ?  Certainly  if  our  Lord 
was  to  be  brought  into  contact  with  the  most  painful 
form  of  sin.  He  must  have  experience  of  treachery.. 
He  had  known  the  sorrow  that  death  brings  to  the 
survivors  ;  He  had  known  the  pain  and  disappointment 
of  being  resisted  by  stupid,  obstinate,  bad-hearted  men  ; 
but  if  He  was  to  know  the  utmost  of  misery  which 
man  can  inflict  upon  man,  He  must  be  brought  into 
contact  with  one  who  could  accept  His  love,  eat  His 
bread,  press  His  hand  with  assurance  of  fidelity,  and 
then  sell  Him. 

When  we  endeavour  to  set  before  our  minds  a 
clear  idea  of  the  character  of  Judas,  and  to  understand 
how  such  a  character  could  be  developed,  we  have  to 
acknowledge  that  we  could  desire  a  few  more  facts  in 
order  to  certify  us  of  what  we  can  now  only  conjec- 
ture.    Obviously    we   must   start    from    the  idea  that 


96  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

with  extraordinary  capacity  for  wickedness  Judas  had 
also  more  than  ordinary  leanings  to  what  was  good. 
He  was  an  Apostle,  and  had,  we  must  suppose,  been 
called  to  that  office  by  Christ  under  the  impression  that 
he  possessed  gifts  which  would  make  him  very  service- 
able to  the  Christian  community.  He  was  himself  so 
impressed  with  Christ  as  to  follow  Him  :  making  those 
pecuniary  sacrifices  of  which  Peter  boastfully  spoke, 
and  which  must  have  been  specially  sore  to  Judas. 
It  is  possible,  indeed,  that  he  may  have  followed  Jesus 
as  a  speculation,  hoping  to  receive  wealth  and  honour 
in  the  new  kingdom  ;  but  this  motive  mingled  with  the 
attachment  to  Christ's  person  which  all  the  Apostles 
had,  and  mingles  in  a  different  form  with  the  disciple- 
ship  of  all  Christians.  With  this  motive,  therefore, 
there  probably  mingled  in  the  mind  of  Judas  a  desire 
to  be  with  One  who  could  shield  him  from  evil  influ- 
ences ;  he  judged  that  with  Jesus  he  would  find  continual 
aid  against  his  weaker  nature.  Possibly  he  wished  by 
one  bold  abandonment  of  the  world  to  get  rid  for  ever 
of  his  covetousness.  That  Judas  was  trusted  by  the 
other  Apostles  is  manifest  from  the  fact  that  to  him 
they  committed  their  common  fund, — not  to  John,  whose 
dreamy  ayd  abstracted  nature  ill  fitted  him  for  minute 
practical  affairs ;  not  to  Peter,  whose  impulsive  nature 
might  often  have  landed  the  little  company  in  diffi- 
culties ;  not  even  to  Matthew,  accustomed  a's  he  was 
to  accounts ;  but  to  Judas,  who  had  the  economical 
habits,  the  aptitude  for  finance,  the  love  of  bargaining, 
which  regularly  go  hand  in  hand  with  the  love  of 
money.  This  practical  faculty  for  finance  and  for 
affairs  generally  might,  if  rightly  guided,  have  become 
a  most  serviceable  element  in  the  Apostolate,  and  might 
have  enabled  Judas  more  successfully  than  any  other 


xiii.  18-30.]  JUDAS.  97 

of  the  Apostles  to  mediate  between  the  Church  and 
the  world.  That  Judas  in  all  other  respects  conducted 
himself  circumspectly  is  proved  by  the  fact  that,  though 
other  Apostles  incurred  the  displeasure  of  Christ  and 
were  rebuked  by  Him,  Judas  committed  no  glaring 
fault  till  this  last  week.  Even  to  the  end  he  was 
unsuspected  by  his  fellow-Apostles ;  and  to  the  end  he 
had  an  active  conscience.  His  last  act,  were  it  not  so 
awful,  would  inspire  us  with  something  like  respect  for 
him  :  he  is  overwhelmed  with  remorse  and  shame ;  his 
sense  of  guilt  is  stronger  even  than  the  love  of  money 
that  had  hitherto  been  his  strongest  passion  :  he 
judges  himself  fairly,  sees  what  he  has  become,  and 
goes  to  his  own  place ;  recognises  as  not  every  man 
does  recognise  what  is  his  fit  habitation,  and  goes  to  it. 

But  this  man,'  with  his  good  impulses,  his  resolute 
will,  his  enlightened  conscience,  his  favouring  circum- 
stances, his  frequent  feelings  of  affection  towards  Christ 
and  desire  to  serve  Him,  committed  a  crime  so  un- 
paralleled in  wickedness  that  men  practically  make 
.very  little  attempt  to  estimate  it  or  measure  it  with  sins 
of  their  own.  Commonly  we  think  of  it  as  a  special, 
exceptional  wickedness — not  so  much  the  natural 
product  of  a  heart  like  our  own  and  what  may  be 
reproduced  by  ourselves,  as  the  work  of  Satan  using 
a  man  as  his  scarcely  responsible  tool  to  effect  a  pur- 
pose which  needs  never  again  to  be  effected. 

If  we  ask  what  precisely  it  was  in  the  crime  of 
Judas  that  makes  us  so  abhor  it,  manifestly  its  most 
hateful  ingredient  was  its  treachery.  "  It  was  not 
an  enemy  that  reproached  me ;  then  I  could  have  borne 
it ;  but  it  was  thou,  a  man  mine  equal,  my  guide,  and 
mine  acquaintance."  Caesar  defended  himself  till  the 
dagger  of  a  friend  pierced  him ;  then  in  indignant  grief 

VOL.    II.  7 


98  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

he  covered  his  head  with  his  mantle  and  accepted  his 
fate.  You  can  forgive  the  open  blow  of  a  declared 
enemy  against  whom  you  are  on  your  guard  ;  but  the 
man  that  lives  with  you  on  terms  of  the  greatest  inti- 
macy for  years,  so  that  he  learns  your  ways  and  habits, 
the  state  of  your  affairs  and  your  past  history— the 
man  whom  you  so  confide  in  and  like  that  you  com- 
municate to  him  freely  much  that  you  keep  hidden 
from  others,  and  who,  while  still  professing  friendship, 
uses  the  information  he  has  gained  to  blacken  your 
character  and  ruin  your  peace,  to  injure  your  family  or 
damage  your  business, — this  man,  you  know,  has  much 
to  repent  of  So  one  can  forgive  the  Pharisees  who 
knew  not  what  they  did,  and  were  throughout  the 
declared  opponents  of  Christ ;  but  Judas  attached  him- 
self to  Christ,  knew  that  His  life  was  one  of  unmixed 
benevolence,  was  conscious  that  Christ,  would  have 
given  up  anything  to  serve  him,  felt  moved  and  proud 
from  time  to  time  by  the  fact  that  Christ  loved  him, 
and  yet  at  the  last  used  all  these  privileges  of  friend- 
ship against  his  Friend. 

And  Judas  did  not  scruple  to  use  this  power  that 
only  the  love  of  Jesus  could  have  given  him,  to  betray 
Him  to  men  whom  he  knew  to  be  unscrupulous  and 
resolved  to  destroy  Him,  The  garden  where  the  Lord 
prayed  for  His  enemies  was  not  sacred  to  Judas ;  the 
cheek  that  a  seraph  would  blush  to  kiss,  and  to  salute 
which  was  the  beginning  of  joy  eternal  to  the  devout 
disciple,  was  mere  common  clay  to  this  man  into  whom 
Satan  had  entered.  The  crime  of  Judas  is  invested  with 
a  horror  altogether  its  own  by  the  fact  that  this  Person 
whom  he  betrayed  was  the  Son  of  God  and  the  Saviour 
of  the  world,  the  Best-beloved  of  God  and  every  man's 
Friend.    The  greatest  blessing  that  God  had  ever  given 


xiii.  18-30.]  JUDAS.  99 

to  earth  Judas  was  forward  to  reject :  not  altogether 
unaware  of  the  majesty  of  Christ,  Judas  presumed  to 
use  Him  in  a  Httle  money-making  scheme  of  his  own. 

The  best  use  that  Judas  could  think  of  putting  Jesus 
to,  the  best  use  he  could  make  of  Hiiu  whom  all  angels 
worship,  was  to  sell  Him  for  ^^5/  He  could  get 
nothing  more  out  of  Christ  than  that.  After  three 
years'  acquaintanceship  and  observation  of  the  various 
ways  in  which  Christ  could  bless  people,  this  was  all 
he  could  get  from  Him.  And  there  are  still  such  men  : 
men  for  whom  there  is  nothing  in  Christ ;  men  who 
can  find  nothing  in  Him  that  they  sincerely  care  for  ; 
men  who,  though  calling  themselves  His  followers, 
would,  if  truth  were  told,  be  better  content  and  feel 
they  had  more  substantial  profit  if  they  could  turn 
Him  into  money. 

So  difficult  is  it  to  comprehend  how  any  man  who 
had  lived  as  the  friend  of  Jesus  could  find  it  in  his 
heart  to  betray  Him,  should  resist  the  touching  expres- 
sions of  love  that  were  shown  him,  and  brave  the  awful 
warning  uttered  at  the  supper-table — so  difficult  is  it 
to  suppose  that  any  man,  however  infatuated,  would 
so  deliberately  sell  his  soul  for  £^,  that  a  theory  has 
been  started  to  explain  the  crime  by  mitigating  its 
guilt.  It  has  been  supposed  that  when  he  delivered 
up  his  Master  into  the  hands  of  the  chief  priests  he 
expected  that  our  Lord  would  save  Himself  by  a  miracle. 
He  knew  that  Jesus  meant  to  proclaim  a  kingdom  ;  he 
had  been  waiting  for  three  years  now,  eagerly  expect- 
ing that  this  proclamation  and  its  accompanying  gains 
would  arrive.  Yet  he  feared  the  opportunity  was  once 
more  passing :  Jesus  had  been  brought  into  the  city 
in  triumph,  but  seemed  indisposed  to  make  use  of  this 

'  More  exactly,  £2)  'O  8>  the  legal  value  of  a  slave. 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


popular  excitement  for  any  temporal  advantage.  Judas 
was  weary  of  this  inactivity  :  might  he  not  himself 
bring  matters  to  a  crisis  by  giving  Jesus  into  the  hands 
of  His  enemies,  and  thus  forcing  Him  to  reveal  His  real 
power  and  assert  by  miracle  His  kingship?  In  cor- 
roboration of  this  theory,  it  is  said  that  it  is  certain  that 
Judas  did  not  expect  Jesus  to  be  condemned ;  for  when 
he  saw  that  he  was  condemned  he  repented  of  his  act. 

This  seems  a  shallow  view  to  take  of  Judas'  remorse, 
and  a  feeble  ground  on  which  to  build  such  a  theory. 
A  crime  seems  one  thing  before,  another  after,  its 
commission.  The  murderer  expects  and  wishes  to  kill 
his  victim,  but  how  often  is  he  seized  with  an  agony 
of  remorse  as  soon  as  the  blow  is  struck  ?  Before  we 
sin,  it  is  the  gain  we  see ;  after  we  sin,  the  guilt.  It 
is  impossible  to  construe  the  act  of  Judas  into  a  mis- 
taken act  of  friendship  or  impatience  ;  the  terms  in 
which  he  is  spoken  of  in  Scripture  forbid  this  idea ; 
and  one  cannot  suppose  that  a  keen-sighted  man  like 
Judas  could  expect  that,  even  supposing  he  did  force 
our  Lord  to  proclaim  Himself,  his  own  share  in  the 
business  would  be  rewarded.  He  could  not  suppose 
this  after  the  terrible  denunciation  and  explicit  state- 
ment that  still  rang  in  his  ears  when  he  hanged  him- 
self: "The  Son  of  man  goeth  as  it  is  written  of  Him  : 
but  woe  unto  that  man  by  whom  the  Son  of  man  is 
betrayed  !  it  had  been  good  for  that  man  if  he  had  not 
been  born." 

We  must  then  abide  by  the  more  commonplace  view 
of  this  crime.  The  only  mitigating  circumstance  that 
can  be  admitted  is,  that  possibly  among  the  many 
perplexed  thoughts  entertained  by  Judas  he  may  have 
supposed  that  Jesus  would  be  acquitted,  or  would  at 
least    not   be   punished  with  death.      Still,  this  being 


xiii.  18-30.]  JUDAS  101 

admitted,  the  fact  remains  that  he  cared  so  little  for 
the  love  of  Christ,  and  regarded  so  little  the  good  He 
was  doing,  and  had  so  little  common  honour  in  him, 
that  he  sold  his  Master  to  His  deadly  enemies.  And 
this  monstrous  wickedness  is  to  be  accounted  for  mainly 
by  his  love  of  money.  Naturally  covetous,  he  fed  his 
evil  disposition  during  those  years  he  carried  the  bag 
for  the  disciples :  while  the  rest  are  taken  up  with 
more  spiritual  matters,  he  gives  more  of  his  thought 
than  is  needful  to  the  matter  of  collecting  as  much  as 
possible  ;  he  counts  it  his  special  province  to  protect 
himself  and  the  others  against  all  "  the  probable  emer- 
gencies and  changes  of  life."  This  he  does,  regardless 
of  the  frequent  admonitions  he  hears  from  the  Lord 
addressed  to  others ;  and  as  he  finds  excuses  for  his 
own  avarice  in  the  face  of  these  admonitions,  and 
hardens  himself  against  the  better  impulses  that  are 
stirred  within  him  by  the  words  and  presence  of 
Christ,  his  covetousness  roots  itself  deeper  and  deeper 
in  his  soul.  Add  to  this,  that  now  he  was  a  disap- 
pointed man  :  the  other  disciples,  finding  that  the  king- 
dom of  Christ  was  to  be  spiritual,  were  pure  and 
high-minded  enough  to  see  that  their  disappointment 
was  their  great  gain.  The  love  of  Christ  had  trans- 
formed them,  and  to  be  like  Him  was  enough  for  them  ; 
but  Judas  still  clung  to  the  idea  of  earthly  grandeur 
and  wealth,  and  finding  Christ  was  not  to  give  him 
these  he  was  soured  and  embittered.  He  saw  that  now, 
since  that  scene  at  Bethany  the  week  before,  his  covet- 
ousness and  earthliness  would  be  resisted  and  would 
also  betray  him.  He  felt  that  he  "could  no  longer 
endure  this  poverty-stricken  life,  and  had  some  rage 
at  himself  and  at  Christ  that  he  had  been  inveigled 
into  it  by  what  he  might  be  pleased  to  say  to  himself 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 


were  false  pretences.     His  self-restraint,  he  felt,  w. 
breaking  down  ;  his  covetousness  was  getting  the  bet 
of  him;  he  felt  that  he  must   break  with  Christ  a 
His  followers;  but  in  doing  so  he  would  at  once  a 
what  he  had  lost  during  these  years  of  poverty,  .' 
also  revenge  himself  on  those  who  had  kept  him  p( 
and  finally  would  justify  his  own  conduct  in  desert'  •■ 
this  society  by  exploding  it  and    causing  it  to  c(  isf 
from  among  men. 

The  sin  of  Judas,  then,  first  of  all  teaches  us 
great  power  and  danger  of  the  love  of  money, 
mere  thirty  pieces  of  silver  would  not  have  been  enr  .;• 
to  tempt  Judas  to  commit  so  dastardly  and  bla  '.  d. 
crime;  but  he  was  now  an  embittered  and  desperate 
man,  and  he  had  become  so  by  allowing  money  to  be 
all  in  all  to  him  for  these  last  years  of  his  life.  For  the 
danger  of  this  passion  consists  very  much  in  this — that 
it  infallibly  eats  out  of  the  soul  every  generous  emotion 
and  high  aim  :  it  is  the  failing  of  a  sordid  nature — a  little, 
mean,  earthly  nature — a  failing  which,  like  all  others, 
may  be  extirpated  through  God's  grace,  but  which  is 
notoriously  difficult  to  extirpate,  and  which  notoriously  is 
accompanied  by  or  produces  other  features  of  character 
which  are  among  the  most  repulsive. one  meets.  The 
love  of  money  is  also  dangerous,  because  it  can  be  so 
easily  gratified  ;  all  that  we  do  in  the  world  .day  by  day 
is  in  the  case  of  most  of  us  connected  with  money,  so 
that  we  have  continual  and  not  only  occasional  oppor- 
tunity of  sinning  if  we  be  inclined  to  the  sin.  Other 
passions  are  appealed  to  only  now  and  again,  but  our 
employments  touch  this  passion  at  all  points.  It  leaves 
no  long  intervals,  as  other  passions  do,  for  repentance 
and  amendment;  but  steadily,  constantly,  little  by  little, 
increases  in  force.     Judas  had  his  fingers  in  the  bag 


xiii.  18-30.]  JUDAS.  103 

all  day ;  it  was  under  his  pillow  and  he  dreamt  upon 
it  all  night ;  and  it  was  this  that  accelerated  his  ruin. 
And  by  this  constant  appeal  it  is  sure  to  succeed  at 
one  time  or  other,  if  we  be  open  to  it.  Judas  could  not 
suppose  that  his  quiet  self-aggrandisement  by  pilfering 
little  coins  from  the  bag  could  ever  bring  him  to  commit 
such  a  crime  against  his  Lord  :  so  may  every  covetous 
person  fancy  that  his  sin  is  one  that  is  his  own  busi- 
ness, and  will  not  damage  his  religious  profession  and 
ruin  his  soul  as  some  wild  lust  or  reckless  infidelity 
would  do.  But  Judas  and  those  who  sin  with  him  in 
making  continually  little  gains  to  which  they  have  no 
right  are  wrong  in  supposing  their  sin  is  less  dangerous ; 
and  for  this  reason — that  covetousness  is  more  a  sin  of 
the  will  than  sins  of  the  flesh  or  of  a  passionate  nature ; 
there  is  more  choice  in  it ;  it  is  more  the  sin  of  the  whole 
man  unresisting ;  and  therefore  it,  above  all  others,  is 
called  idolatry — it,  above  all  others,  proves  that  the  man 
is  in  his  heart  choosing  the  world  and  not  God.  There- 
fore it  is  that  even  our  Lord  Himself  spoke  almost 
despairingly,  certainly  quite  differently,  of  covetous  men 
in  comparison  with  other  sinners. 

Disappointment  in  Christ  is  not  an  unknown  thing 
among  ourselves.  Men  still  profess  to  be  Christians 
who  are  so  only  in  the  degree  in  which  Judas  was. 
They  expect  some  good  from  Christ,  but  not  all.  They 
attach  themselves  to  Christ  in  a  loose,  conventional  way, 
expecting  that,  though  they  are  Christians,  they  need  not 
lose  anything  by  their  Christianity,  nor  make  any  great 
efforts  or  sacrifices.  They  retain  command  of  their 
own  life,  and  are  prepared  to  go  with  -Christ  only  so  far 
as  they  find  it  agreeable  or  inviting.  The  eye  of  an 
observer  may  not  be  able  to  distinguish  them  from 
Christ's  true  followers ;  but  the  distinction  is  present 


104  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

and  is  radical.  They  are  seeking  to  use  Christ,  and  are 
not  wilhng  to  be  used  by  Him.  They  are  not  wholly 
and  heartily  His,  but  merely  seek  to  derive  some 
influences  from  Him.  The  result  is  that  they  one 
day  find  that,  through  all  their  religious  profession 
and  apparent^  Christian  life,  their  characteristic  sin  has 
actually  been  gaining  strength.  And  finding  this,  they 
turn  upon  Christ  with  disappointment  and  rage  in  their 
hearts,  because  they  become  aware  that  they  have  lost 
both  this  world  and  the  next — have  lost  many  pleasures 
and  gains  they  might  have  enjoyed,  and  yet  have  gained 
no  spiritual  attainment.  They  find  that  the  reward  of 
double-mindedness  is  the  most  absolute  perdition,  that 
both  Christ  and  the  world,  to  be  made  anything  of, 
require  the  whole  man,  and  that  he  who  tries  to  get 
the  good  of  both  gets  the  good  of  neither.  And  when 
a  man  awakes  to  see  that  this  is  the  result  of  his 
Christian  profession,  there  is  no  deadliness  of  hatred 
to  which  the  bitter  disappointment  of  his  soul  will  not 
carry  him.  He  has  himself  been  a  dupe,  and  he  calls 
Christ  an  impostor.  He  know  himself  to  be  damned, 
and  he  says  there  is  no  salvation  in  Christ. 

But  to  this  disastrous  issue  any  cherished  sin  may 
also  in  its  own  way  lead ;  for  the  more  comprehensive 
lesson  -which  this  sin  of  Judas  brings  with  it  is  the 
rapidity  of  sin's  growth  and  the  enormous  proportions 
it  attains  when  the  sinner  is  sinning  against  light, 
when  he  is  in  circumstances  conducive  to  holiness  and 
still  sins.  To  discover  the  wickedest  of  men,  to  see 
the  utmost  of  human  guilt,  we  must  look,  not  among 
the  heathen,  but  among  those  who  know  God ;  not 
among  the  profligate,  dissolute,  abandoned  classes  of 
society,  but  among  the  Apostles.  The  good  that  was 
in  Judas  led  him  to  join  Christ,  and  kept  him  associated 


xiii.  18-30.]  JUDAS.  105 

with  Christ  for  some  years ;  but  the  devil  of  covetous- 
ness  that  was  cast  out  for  a  while  returned  and  brought 
with  him  seven  devils  worse  than  himself.  There  was 
everything  in  his  position  to  win  him  to  unworldliness  : 
the  men  he  lived  with  cared  not  one  whit  for  comforts 
or  anything  that  money  could  buy ;  but  instead  of 
catching  their  spirit  he  took  advantage  of  their  care- 
lessness. He  was  in  a  public  position,  liable  to 
detection ;  but  this,  instead  of  making  him  honest 
perforce,  made  him  only  the  more  crafty  and  studiedly 
hypocritical.  The  solemn  warnings  of  Christ,  so  far 
from  intimidating  him,  only  made  him  more  skilful  in 
evading  all  good  influence,  and  made  the  road  to  hell 
easier.  The  position  he  enjoyed,  and  by  which  he 
might  have  been  for  ever  enrolled  among  the  foremost 
of  mankind,  one  of  the  twelve  foundations  of  the  eternal 
city,  he  so  skilfully  misused  that  the  greatest  sinner 
feels  glad  that  he  has  yet  not  been  left  to  commit  the 
sin  of  Judas.  Had  Judas  not  followed  Christ  he  could 
never  have  attained  the  pinnacle  of  infamy  on  which 
he  now  for  ever  stands.  In  all  probability  he  would 
have  passed  his  days  as  a  small  trader  with  false 
weights  in  the  little  town  of  Kerioth,  or,  at  the  worst, 
might  have  developed  into  an  extortionous  publican, 
and  have  passed  into  oblivion  with  the  thousands  of 
unjust  men  who  have  died  and  been  at  last  forced  to 
let  go  the  money  that  should  long  ago  have  belonged 
to  others.  Or  had  Judas  followed  Christ  truly,  then 
there  lay  before  him  the  noblest  of  all  lives,  the  most 
blessed  of  destinies.  But  he  followed  Christ  and  yet 
took  his  sin  with  him  :  and  thence  his  ruin. 


VIII. 
JESUS  ANNOUNCES  HIS  DEPARTURE. 


107 


"  When  therefore  he  was  gone  out,  Jesus  saith,  Now  is  the  Son  of 
man  glorified,  and  God  is  glorified  in  Him  ;  and  God  shall  glorify  Him 
in  Himself,  and  straightway  shall  He  glorify  Him.  Little  children, 
yet  a  little  while  I  am  with  you.  Ye  shall  seek  Me  :  and  as  I  said  unto 
the  Jews,  Whither  I  go,  ye  cannot  come  ;  so  now  I  say  unto  you.  A 
new  commandn\ent  I  give  unto  you,  that  ye  love  one  another ;  even  as 
I  have  loved  you,  that  ye  also  love  one  another.  By  this  shall  all  men 
know  that  ye  are  My  disciples,  if  ye  have  love  one  to  another.  Simon 
Peter  saith  unto  Him,  Lord,  whither  goest  Thou  ?  Jesus  answered, 
Whither  I  go,  thou  canst  not  follow  Me  now ;  but  thou  shalt  follow 
afterwards.  Peter  saith  unto  Him,  Lord,  why  cannot  I  follow  Thee 
even  now  ?  1  will  lay  down  my  life  for  Thee.  Jesus  answereth,  Wilt 
thou  lay  down  thy  life  for  Me  ?  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee.  The 
cock  shall  not  crow,  till  thou  hast  denied  Me  thrice.  Let  not  your 
heart  be  troubled  :  ye  believe  in  God,  believe  also  -in  Me.  In  My 
Father's  house  are  many  mansions  ;  if  it  were  not  so,  I  would  have  told 
you ;  for  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you.  And  if  I  go  and  prepare  a 
place  for  you,  I  come  again,  and  will  receive  you  unto  Myself;  that 
where  I  am,  there  ye  may  be  also.  And  whither  I  go,  ye  know  the 
way." — ^JOHN  xiii.  31 — xiv.  4. 


108 


VIII. 

JESUS  ANNOUNCES  HIS  DEPARTURE. 

WHEN  Judas  glided  out  of  the  supper-room  on 
his  terrible  mission,  a  weight  seemed  to  be 
lifted  from  the  spirit  of  Jesus.  The  words  which  fell 
from  Him,  however,  indicated  that  He  not  only  felt 
the  relief  of  being  rid  of  a  disturbing  element  in  the 
company,  but  tha't  He  recognised  that  a  crisis  in  His( 
own  career  had  been  reached  and  successfully  passed  '  ' 
through.  "  Now  is  the  Son  of  man  glorified,  and  God 
is  glorified  in  Him."  In  sending  Judas  forth  He  had 
in  point  of  fact  delivered  Himself  to  death.  He  had 
.taken  the  step  which  cannot  be  withdrawn,  and  He  is 
conscious  of  taking  it  in  fulfilment  of  the  will  of  the 
Father.  The  conflict  in  His  own  mind  is  revealed  only 
by  the  decision  of  the  victory.  No  man  in  soundness 
of  body  and  of  mind  can  voluntarily  give  himself  to  die 
without  seeing  clearly  other  possibilities,  and  without 
feeling  it  to  be  a  hard  and  painful  thing  to  relinquish 
life.  Jesus  had  made  up  His  mind.  His  death  is  the 
beginning  of  His  glorification.  In  choosing  the  cross 
He  chooses  the  crown.  "  The  Son  of  man  is  glorified  " 
in  His  perfect  self-sacrifice  that  wins  all  men  to  Him  ; 
and  God  is  glorified  in  Him  because  this  sacrifice  is  a 
tribute  at  once  to  the  justice  and  the  love  of  God.  The 
Cross  reveals  God  as  nothine  else  does. 

109 


J 


no  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN 

Not  only  has  this  decision  glorified  the  Son  of  man 
and  God  through  Him  and  in  Him,  but  as  a  conse- 
quence "  God  will  glorify "  the  Son  of  man  "  in 
Himself."  He  will  lift  Him  to  participation  in  the 
Divine  glory.  It  was  well  that  the  disciples  should 
know  that  this  would  "  straightway "  result  from  all 
that  their  Master  was  now  to  pass  through ;  that  the 
perfect  sympathy  with  the  Father's  will  which  He  was 
now  showing  would  be  rewarded  by  permanent  partici- 
pation in  the  authority  of  God.  It  must  be  through 
such  an  one  as  their  Lord,  who  is  absolutely  at  one  with 
God,  that  God  fulfils  His  purpose  towards  men.  By 
this  life  and  death  of  perfect  obedience,  of  absolute 
devotedness  to  God  and  man,  Christ  necessarily  wins 
dominion  over  human  affairs  and  exercises  a  deter- 
mining influence  on  all  that  is  to  be.  In  all  that  Christ 
did  upon  earth  God  was  glorified  ;  His .  holiness,  His 
fatherly  love  were  manifested  to  men  :  in  all  that  God 
now  does  upon  earth  Christ  will  be  glorified ;  the 
uniqueness  and  power  of  His  life  will  become  more 
manifest,  the  supremacy  of  His  Spirit  be  more  and 
more  apparent. 

This  glorification  was  not  the  far-off  result  of  the 
impending  sacrifice.  It  was  to  date  from  the  present 
hour  and  to  begin  in  the  sacrifice.  God  will  glorify 
Him  "  straightway."  "  Yet  a  little  while  "  was  He  to 
be  with  His  disciples.  Therefore  does  He  tenderly 
address  them,  recognising  their  incompetence,  their 
inability  to  stand  alone,  as  "  little  children  " ;  and  in 
view  of  the  exhibition  of  bad  feeling,  and  even  of 
treachery,  which  the  Twelve  had  at  that  very  hour 
given.  His  commandment,  "  Love  one  another,"  comes 
with  a  tenfold  significance.  I  am  leaving  you.  He 
says  :  put  away,  then,  all  heart-burnings  and  jealousies  ; 


xiii.3i— xiv.4.]    JESUS  ANNOUNCES  HIS  DEPARTURE,  in 

cling  together ;  do  not  let  quarrels  and  envyings  divide 
you.  This  was  to  be  their  safeguard  when  He  left 
them  and  went  where  they  could  not  come.  "  A  new 
commandment  I  give  unto  you,  That  ye  love  one 
another;  as  I  have  loved  you,  that  ye  also  love  one 
another.  By  this  shall  all  men  know  that  ye  are  My 
disciples,  if  ye  have  love  one  to  another." 

The  commandment  to  love  our  neighbour  as  our- 
selves was  no  new  commandment.  But  to  love  "as  \.  JJ- 
I  have  loved  you  "  was  so  new  that  its  practice  was 
enough  to  identify  a  man  as  a  disciple  of  Christ.  The 
manner  and  the  measure  of  the  love  that  is  possible 
and  that  is  commanded  could  not  even  be  understood 
until  Christ's  love  was  revealed.  But  probably  what 
Jesus  had  even  more  directly  in  view  was  the  love  that  (  v 
was  to  bind  His  followers  together^  and  make  them  ■ 
one  solid  body.  It  was  on  their  mutual  attachment 
that  the  very  existence  of  the  Christian  Church 
depended ;  and  this  love  of  men  to  one  another  spring- 
ing out  of  the  love  of  Christ  for  them,  and  because  of 
their  acknowledgment  and  love  of  a  common  Lord,  was 
a  new  thing  in  the  world.  The  bond  to  Christ  proved 
itself  stronger  than  all  other  ties,  and  those  who 
cherished  a  com.mon  love  to  Him  were  drawn  to  one 
another  more  closely  than  even  to  blood  relations.  In 
fact,  Christ,  by  His  love  for  men,  has  created  a  new 
bond,  and  that  the  strongest  by  which  men  can  be 
bound  to  one  another.  As  the  Christian  Church  is  a 
new  institution  upon  earth,  so  is  the  principle  which 
forms  it  a  new  principle.  The  principle  has,  indeed,  too 
often  been  hidden  from  sight,  if  not  smothered,  by  the 
institution ;  too  little  has  love  been  regarded  as  the  one 

'  "  That  ye  love  one  anotJier  "  is  the  twice-expreaed  commandment. 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


thing  by  which  the  disciple  of  Christ  is  to  be  recognised, 
the  one  note  of  the  true  Church.  But  that  this  form  of 
love  was  a  new  thing  upon  earth  is  apparent/ 

Tenderly  as  Jesus  made  the  announcement  of  His 
departure,  it  filled  the  minds  of  the  disciples  with  con- 
sternation. Even  the  buoyant  and  hardy  Peter  felt  for 
the  moment  staggered  by  the  intelligence,  and  still 
more  by  the  announcement  that  he  was  not  able  to 
accompany  his  Lord.  He  was  assured  that  one  day 
he  should  follow  Him,  but  at  present  this  was  impos- 
sible. This,  Peter  considered  a  reflection  upon  his 
courage  and  fidelity ;  and  although  his  headlong  self- 
confidence  had  only  a  few  minutes  before  been  so 
severely  rebuked,  he  exclaims,  "  Lord,  why  cannot  I 
follow  Thee  now  ?  I  will  lay  down  my  life  for  Thy 
sake."  This  was  the  true  expression  of  Peter's  present 
feeling,  and  he  was  allowed  in  the  end  to  give  proof 
that  these  vehement  words  were  not  mere  bluster. 
But  as  yet  he  had  not  at  all  apprehended  the  separate- 
ness  of  his  Lord  and  the  uniqueness  of  His  work.  He 
did  not  know  precisely  what  Jesus  alluded  to,  but  he 
thought  a  strong  arm  would  not  be  out  of  place  in  any 
conflict  that  was  coming.  The  offers  which  even  true 
fidelity  makes  are  often  only  additional  hindrances  to 
our  Lord's  purposes,  and  additional  burdens  for  Him 
to    bear.     On   Himself  alone    must    He    depend.     No 


'  "  Any  Church  that  professes  to  be  t/ie  Church  of  Christ  cannot  be 
that  Church.  The  true  Church  refuses  to  be  circumscribed  or  parted 
by  any  denominational  wall.  It  knows  that  Christ  is  repudiated  when 
His  people  are  repudiated.  Not  even  a  Biblical  creed  can  yield  satis- 
factory evidence  that  a  specified  Church  is  the  true  Church.  True 
Christians  are  those  who  love  one  another  across  denominational 
differences,  and  exhibit  the  spirit  of  Him  who  gave  Himself  to  death 
upon  the  cross  that  His  murderers  might  live." 


xiii.3i— xiv.4.]   JESUS  ANNOUNCES  HIS  DEPARTURE.  113 


man  can  counsel  Him,  and  none  can  aid  save  by  first 
receiving  from  Him  His  own  spirit. 

Peter  thus  rebuked  falls  into  unwonted  silence,  and 
takes  no  further  part  in  the  conversation.  The  rest, 
knowing  that  Peter  has  more  courage  than  any  of 
them,  fear  that  if  he  is  thus  to  fall  it  cannot  be  hope- 
ful for  themselves.  They  feel  that  if  they  are  left 
without  Jesus  they  have  no  strength  to  make  head 
against  the  rulers,  no  skill  in  argument  such  as  made 
Jesus  victorious  when  assailed  by  the  scribes,  no 
popular  eloquence  which  might  enable  them  to  win  the 
people.  Eleven  more  helpless  men  could  not  well  be. 
"  Sheep  without  a  shepherd  "  was  not  too  strong  an 
expression  to  depict  their  weakness  and  want  of  in- 
fluence, their  incompetence  to  effect  anything,  their 
inability  even  tq  keep  together,  Christ  was  their  bond 
of  union  and  the  strength  of  each  of  them.  It  was  to 
be  with  Him  that  they  had  left  all.  And  in  forsaking 
all — father  and  mother,  wife  and  children,  home  and 
kindred  and  calling — they  had  found  in  Christ  that 
hundredfold  more  even  in  this  life  which  He  had 
promised.  He  had  so  won  their  hearts,  there  was 
about  Him  something  so  fascinating,  that  they  felt  no 
loss  when  they  enjoyed  His  presence,  and  feared  no 
danger  in  which  He  was  their  leader.  They  had 
perhaps  not  thought  very  definitely  of  their  future  ; 
they  felt  so  confident  in  Jesus  that  they  were  content 
to  let  Him  bring  in  His  kingdom  as  He  pleased  ;  they 
were  so  charmed  with  the  novelty  of  their  life  as  His 
disciples,  with  the  great  ideas  that  dropped  from  His 
lips,  with  the  wonderful  works  He  did,  with  the  new 
light  He  shed  upon  all  the  personages  and  institutions 
of  the  world,  that  they  were  satisfied  to  leave  their 
hope    undefined.     But  all   this  satisfaction  and  secret 

VOL.    II.  8 


r    f 


114  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

assurance  of  hope  depended  on  Christ.  As  yet  He 
had  not  given  to  them  anything  which  could  enable 
them  to  make  any  mark  upon  the  world.  They  were 
still  very  ignorant,  so  that  any  lawyer  could  entangle 
and  puzzle  them.  They  had  not  received  from  Christ 
any  influential  position  in  society  from  which  they 
could  sway  men.  There  were  no  great  visible  institu- 
tions with  which  they  could  identify  themselves  and  so 
become  conspicuous. 

It  was  with  dismay,  therefore,  that  they  heard  that 
He  was  going  where  they  could  not  accompany  Him. 
A  cloud  of  gloomy  foreboding  gathered  on  their  faces 
as  they  lay  round  the  table  and  fixed  their  eyes  on 
Him  as  on  one  whose  words  they  would  interpret 
differently  if  they  could.  Their  anxious  looks  are  not 
disregarded.  "  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled,"  He 
says :  "  believe  in  God,  and  in  Me,  too,  believe."  Do 
not  give  way  to  disturbing  thoughts  ;  do  not  suppose 
that  only  failure,  disgrace,  helplessness,  and  calamity 
await  you.  Trust  God.  In  this,  as  in  all  matters.  He 
is  guiding  and  ruling  and  working  His  own  good  ends 
through  all  present  evil.  Trust  Him,  even  when  you 
cannot  penetrate  the  darkness.  It  is  His  part  to  bring 
you  successfully  through ;  it  is  your  part  to  follow 
where  He  leads.  Do  not  question  and  debate  and  vex 
your  soul,  but  leave  all  to  Him.  "  Why  art  thou  cast 
V  down,  O  my  soul  ?  and  why  art  thou  disquieted  within 
me  ?  Hope  thou  in  God  ;  for  I  shall  yet  praise  Him 
who  is  the  health  of  my  countenance  and  my  God." 

"And  in  Me,  too,  trust."  I  would  not  leave  you  had 
I  not  a  purpose  to  serve.  It  is  not  to  secure  My  own 
safety  or  happiness  I  go.  It  is  not  to  occupy  the  sole 
available  room  in  My  Father's  house.  There  are  many 
rooms    there,   and   I    go    to    prepare   a  place  for  you. 


xiii.31— xiv.4.]   JESUS  ANNOUNCES  HIS  DEPARTURE.  115 

Trust  Me.  In  order  that  they  may  fully  understand  the 
reasonableness  of  His  departure  He  assures  them,  first 
of  all,  that  it  has  a  purpose.  The  parent  mourns  over 
the  son  who  in  mere  waywardness  leaves  his  home 
and  his  occupation  ;  but  with  very  different  feelings 
does  he  follow  one  who  has  come  to  see  that  the 
greater  good  of  the  family  requires  that  he  should  go, 
and  who  has  carefully  ascertained  where  ancj  how  he 
can  best  serve  those  he  leaves  behind.  To  such  an 
absence  men  can  reconcile  themselves.  The  parting  is 
bitter,  but  the  greater  good  to  be  gained  by  it  enables 
them  to  approve  its  reasonableness  and  to  submit. 
And  what  our  Lord  says  to  His  disciples  is  virtually 
this  :  I  have  not  wearied  of  earth  and  tired  of  your 
company,  neither  do  I  go  because  I  must.  I  could 
escape  Judas  arid  the  Jews.  But  I  have  a  purpose 
which  requires  that  I  should  go.  You  have  not  found 
Me  impulsive,  neither  am  I  now  acting  without  good 
reason.  Could  I  be  of  more  use  to  you  by  staying",  I 
would  stay. 

This  is  a  new  kind  of  assertion  to  be  made  by  human 
lips :  "  I  am  going  into  the  other  world  to  effect  a 
a  purpose."  Often  the  sense  of  duty  has  been  so 
strong  in  men  that  they  have  left  this  world  without 
a  murmur.  But  no  one  has  felt  so  clear  about  what 
lies  beyond,  or  has  been  so  confident  of  his  own  power 
to  effect  any  change  for  the  better  in  the  other  world, 
that  he  has  left  this  for  a  sphere  of  greater  usefulness. 
This  is  what  Christ  does. 

But  He  also  explains  what  His  purpose  is :  "  In  My 
Father's  house  are  many  mansions.  I  go  to  prepare  a 
place  for  you."  The  Father's  house  was  a  new  figure 
for  heaven.  The  idea  of  God's  house  was,  however, 
familiar  to  the  Jews.     But  in  the  Temple  the  freedom 


ii6  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 


and  familiarity  which  we  associate  with  home  were 
absent.  It  was  only  when  One  came  who  felt  that  His 
real  home  was  in  God  that  the  Temple  could  be  called 
"  the  Father's  house."  Yet  there  is  nothing  that  the 
heart  of  man  more  importunately  craves  than  the 
freedom  and  ease  which  this  name  implies.  To  live 
unafraid  of  God,  not  shrinking  from  Him,  but  so  truly 
at  one  with  Him  that  we  live  as  one  household  bright- 
ened by  His  presence — this  is  the  thirst  for  God  which 
is  one  day  felt  in  every  heart.  And  on  His  part  God 
has  many  mansions  in  His  house,  proclaiming  that  He 
desires  to  have  us  at  home  with  Him  ;  that  He  wishes 
us  to  know  and  trust  Him,  not  to  change  our  counte- 
nances when  we  meet  Him  at  a  corner,  save  by  an 
added  brightness  of  joy.  And  this  is  what  we  have 
to  look  forward  to — that  after  all  our  coldness  and  dis- 
trust have  been  removed  and  our  hearts  thawed  by  His 
presence,  we  shall  live  in  the  constant  enjoyment  of 
a  Father's  love,  feehng  ourselves  more  truly  at  home 
with  Him  than  with  any  one  else,  delighting  in  the 
perfectness  of  His  sympathy  and  the  abundance  of 
His  provision. 

Into  this  intimacy  with  God,  this  freedom  of  the 
universe,  this  sense  that  "  all  things  are  ours  "  because 
we  are  His,  this  entirely  attractive  heaven,  we  are  to 
be  introduced  by  Christ.  "  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for 
you."  It  is  He  who  has  transformed  the  darkness  of 
the  grave  into  the  bright  gateway  of  the  Father's  home, 
where  all  His  children  are  to  find  eternal  rest  and  ever- 
lasting joy.  As  an  old  writer  says,  "  Christ  is  the 
quartermaster  who  provides  quarters  for  all  who  follow 
Him."  He  has  gone  on  before  to  make  ready  for  those 
whom  He  has  summoned  to  come  after  Him. 

If  we   ask  why  it  was  needful   that   Christ  should 


xiii.31— xiv.4.]  JESUS  ANNOUNCES  HIS  DEPARTURE.  117 

go  forward  thus,  and  what  precisely  He  had  to  do  in 
the  way  of  preparation,  the  question  may  be  answered 
in  different  ways.  These  disciples  in  after-years  com- 
pared Christ's  passing  into  the  Father's  presence  to 
the  high  priest's  entrance  within  the  veil  to  present 
the  blood  of  sprinkling  and  to  make  intercession.  But 
in  the  language  of  Christ  there  is  no  hint  that  such 
thoughts  were  in  His  mind.  It  is  the  Father's  house 
that  is  in  His  mind,  the  eternal  home  of  men ;  and  He 
sees  the  Father  welcoming  Him  as  the  leader  of  many 
brethren,  and  with  gladness  in  His  heart  going  from 
room  to  room,  always  adding  some  new  touch  for  the 
comfort  and  surprise  of  the  eagerly  expected  children. 
If  God,  like  a  grieved  and  indignant  father  whose  sons 
have  preferred  other  company  to  his,  had  dismantled 
and  locked  the  rooms  that  once  were  ours,  Christ  has 
made  our  peace,  and  has  given  to  the  yearning  heart 
of  the  Father  opportunity  to  open  these  rooms  once 
more  and  deck  them  for  our  home-coming.  With  the 
words  of  Christ  there  enters  the  spirit  a  conviction 
that  when  we  pass  out  of  this  life  we  shall  find  our- 
selves as  much  fuller  of  life  and  deeper  in  joy  as  we 
are  nearer  to  God,  the  source  of  all  life  and  joy ;  and 
that  when  we  come  to  the  gates  of  God's  dwelling 
it  will  not  be  as  the  vagabond  and  beggar  unknown 
to  the  household  and  who  can  give  no  good  account 
of  himself,  but  as  the  child  whose  room  is  ready  for 
him,  whose  coming  is  expected  and  prepared  for,  and 
who  has  indeed  been  sent  for. 

This  of  itself  is  enough  to  give  us  hopeful  thoughts 
of  the  future  state.  Christ  is  busied  in  preparing  for 
us  what  will  give  us  satisfaction  and  joy.  When  we 
expect  a  guest  we  love  and  have  written  for,  we  take 
pleasure  in  preparing  for  his  reception, — we  hang  in 


Ii8  THE   GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

his  room  the  picture  he  Hkes  ;  if  he  is  infirm,  we  wheel 
in  the  easiest  chair ;  we  gather  the  flowers  he  admires 
and  set  them  on  his  table  ;  we  go  back  and  back  to 
see  if  nothing  else  will  suggest  itself  to  us,  so  that 
when  he  comes  he  may  have  entire  satisfaction.  This 
is  enough  for  us  to  know — that  Christ  is  similarly  occu- 
pied. He  knows  our  tastes,  our  capabihties,  our  attain- 
ments, and  he  has  identified  a  place  as  ours  and  holds 
it  for  us.  What  the  joys  and  the  activities  and  occu- 
pations of  the  future  shall  be  we  do  not  know.  With 
the  body  we  shall  lay  aside  many  of  our  appetites  and 
tastes  and  proclivities,  and  what  has  here  seemed 
necessary  to  our  comfort  will  at  once  become  indif- 
ferent. We  shall  not  be  able  to  desire  the  pleasures 
that  now  allure  and  draw  us.  The  need  of  shelter, 
of  retirement,  of  food,  of  comfort,  will  disappear  with 
the  body ;  and  what  the  joys  and  the  requirements  of 
a  spiritual  body  will  be  we  do  not  know.  But  we  do 
know  that  at  home  with  God  the  fullest  life  that  man 
can  live  will  certainly  be  ours. 

It  is  a  touching  evidence  of  Christ's  truthfulness  and 
fidelity  to  His  people  that  is  given  in  the  words,  "  If 
/It  were  not  so,  I  would  have  told  you  " — that  is  to  say, 
if  it  had  not  been  possible  for  you  to  follow  Me  into  the 
Father's  presence  and  find  a  favourable  reception  there, 
I  would  have  told  you  this  long  ago.  I  would  not 
have  taught  you  to  love  Me,  only  to  have  given  you  the 
grief  of  separation.  I  would  not  have  encouraged  you 
to  hope  for  what  I  was  not  sure  you  are  to  receive. 
He  had  all  along  seen  how  the  minds  of  the  disciples 
were  working  ;  He  had  seen  that  by  being  admitted  to 
familiarity  with  Him  they  had  learnt  to  expect  God's 
eternal  favour  ;  and  had  this  been  a  deceitful  expecta- 
tion  He  would  have  undeceived  them.     So  it  is  with 


xiii.3i— xiv.4.]   JESUS  ANNOUNCES  HIS  DEPARTURE.  ilQ 

Him  still.  The  hopes  His  word  begets  are  not  vain. 
These  dreams  of  glory  that  pass  before  the  spirit  that 
listens  to  Christ  and  thinks  of  Him  are  to  be  realised. 
If  it  were  not  so,  He  would  have  told  us.  We  our- 
selves feel  that  we  are  scarcely  acting  an  honest  part 
when  we  allow  persons  to  entertain  false  hopes,  even 
when  these  hopes  help  to  comfort  and  support  them, 
as  in  the  case  of  persons  suffering  from  disease.  So 
our  Lord  does  not  beget  hopes  He  cannot  satisfy.  If 
there  were  still  difficulties  in  the  way  of  our  eternal 
happiness,  He  would  have  told  us  of  these.  If  there 
were  any  reason  to  despair,  He  Himself  would  have 
been  the  first  to  tell  us  to  despair.  If  eternity  were  to 
be  a  blank  to  us,  if  God  were  inaccessible,  if  the  idea 
of  a  perfect  state  awaiting  us  were  mere  talk.  He  would 
have  told  us  s'o. 

Neither  will  the  Lord  leave  His  disciples  to  find 
their  own  way  to  the  Father's  home  :  "  If  I  go  and 
prepare  a  place  for  you,  I  will  come  again,  and  receive 
you  unto  Myself;  that  where  I  am,  there  ye  may  be 
also."  Present  separation  was  but  the  first  step 
towards  abiding  union.  And  as  each  disciple  was 
summoned  to  follow  Christ  in  death,  he  recognised 
that  this  was  the  summons,  not  of  an  earthly  power, 
but  of  his  Lord ;  he  recognised  that  to  him  the  Lord's 
promise  was  being  kept,  and  that  he  was  being  taken 
into  eternal  union  with  Jesus  Christ.  From  many  all 
the  pain  and  darkness  of  death  have  been  taken  away 
by  this  assurance.  They  have  accepted  death  as  the 
needful  transition  from  a  state  in  which  much  hinders 
fellowship  with  Christ  to  a  state  in  which  that  fellowship 
is  all  in  all. 


IX. 

THE   WAY,    THE   TRUTH,  AND   THE  LIFE. 


"Thomas  saith  unto  Him,  Lord,  we  know  not  whither  Thou  goest ; 
how  know  we  the  way  ?  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  I  am  the  Way,  and 
the  Truth,  and  the  Life :  no  one  comcth  unto  the  Father,  but  by  Me. 
If  ye  had  known  Me,  ye  would  have  known  My  Father  also :  from 
henceforth  ye  know  Him,  and  have  seen  Him." — John  xiv.  5-7. 


122 


IX. 

THE   WAY,    THE   TRUTH,   AND   THE  LIFE. 

IT  surprises  us  to  find  that  words  which  have  become 
famihar  and  most  intelligible  to  us  should  have 
been  to  the  Apostles  obscure  and  puzzling.  Apparently 
they  were  not  yet  persuaded  that  their  Master  was 
shortly  to  die  ;  and,  accordingly,  when  He  spoke  of 
going  to  His  Father's  house,  it  did  not  occur  to  them 
that  He  meant  passing  into  the  spiritual  world.  His 
assuring  words,  "Where  I  am,  there  ye  shall  be  also," 
therefore  fell  short.  And  when  He  sees  their  bewilder- 
ment written  on  their  faces.  He  tentatively,  half  interro-- 
gatively,  adds,  "  And  whither  I  go  ye  know,  and  the 
way  ye  know."  ^  Unless  they  knew  where  He  was 
going,  there  was  less  consolation  even  in  the  promise 
that  He  would  come  for  them  after  He  had  gone  and 
prepared  a  place  for  them.  And  when  He  thus  chal- 
lenges them  candidly  to  say  whether  they  understood 
where  He  was  going,  and  where  He  would  one  day 
take  them  also,  Thomas,  always  the  mouthpiece  for 
the  despondency  of  the  Twelve,  at  once  replies,  "  Lord, 
we  know  not  whither  Thou  goest ;  and  how  can  we 
know  the  way  ?  " 

This  interruption  by  Thomas  gives  occasion  to  the 

'  Or,  "  And  whither  I  go  ye  know  the  way." 
123 


124  TtiE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

great  declaration,  "  I  am  the  Way,  and  the  Truth,  and 
the  Life :  no  man  cometh  unto  the  Father,  but  by  Me." 
It  is,  then,  to  the  Father  that  Christ  is  the  Way.  And 
He  is  the  Way  by  being  the  Truth  and  the  Life.  We 
must  first,  then,  consider  in  what  sense  He  is  the  Truth 
and  the  Life. 

L  I  am  the  Truth.  Were  these  words  merely 
equivalent  to  "  I  speak  the  truth,"  it  would  be  much  to 
know  this  of  One  who  tells  us  things  of  so  measureless 
a  consequence  to  ourselves.  The  faith  of  the  disciples 
was  being  strained  by  what  He  had  just  been  saying 
to  them.  Here  was  a  man  in  most  respects  like  them- 
selves :  a  man  who  got  hungry  and  sleepy,  a  man  who 
was  to  be  arrested  and  executed  by  the  rulers,  assuring 
them  that  He  was  going  to  prepare  for  them  everlasting 
habitations,  and  that  He  would  return  to  take  them  to 
these  habitations.  He  saw  that  they  found  it  hard  to 
believe  this.  Who  does  not  find  it  hard  to  believe  all 
our  Lord  tells  us  of  our  future  ?  Think  how  much 
we  trust  simply  to  His  word.  If  He  is  not  true,  then 
the  whole  of  Christendom  has  framed  its  life  on  a  false 
issue,  and  is  met  at  death  by  blank  disappointment. 
Christ  has  aroused  in  our  minds  by  His  promises  and 
statements  a  group  of  ideas  and  expectations  which 
nothing  but  His  word  could  have  persuaded  us  to 
entertain.  Nothing  is  more  remarkable  about  our 
Lord  than  the  calmness  and  assurance  with  which  He 
utters  the  most  astounding  statements.  The  ablest  and 
most  enlightened  men  have  their  hesitations,  their 
periods  of  agonising  doubt,  their  suspense  of  judgment, 
their  laboured  inquiries,  their  mental  conflicts.  With 
Jesus  there  is  nothing  of  this.  From  first  to  last  He 
sees  with  perfect  clearness  to  the  utmost  bound  of 
human  thought,  knows  with  absolute  certainty  what- 


xiv.s-7.]    THE   WAY,    THE   TRUTH,   AND   THE  LIFE.     125 

ever  is  essential  for  us  to  know.  His  is  not  the 
assurance  of  ignorance,  nor  is  it  the  dogmatism  of 
traditional  teaching,  nor  the  evasive  assurance  of  a 
superficial  and  reckless  mind.  It  is  plainly  the  assur- 
ance of  One  who  stands  in  the  full  noon  of  truth  and 
speaks  what  He  knows. 

But  in  His  endeavours  to  gain  the  confidence  of  men 
there  is  discernible  no  anger  at  their  incredulity.  Again 
and  again  He  brings  forward  reasons  why  His  word 
should  be  believed.  He  appeals  to  their  knowledge 
of  His  candour  :  "  If  it  were  not  so,  I  would  have  told 
you."  It  was  the  ti-uth  He  came  into  the  world  to 
bear  witness  to.  Lies  enough  were  current  already. 
He  came  to  be  the  Light  of  the  world,  to  dispel  the 
darkness  and  bring  men  into  the  very  truth  of  things. 
But  with  all  His  impressiveness  of  asseveration  there 
is  no  anger,  scarcely  even  wonder  that  men  did  not 
believe,  because  He  saw  as  plainly  as  we  see  that  to 
venture  our  eternal  hope  on  His  word  is  not  easy. 
And  yet  He  answered  promptly  and  with  authority  the 
questions  which  have  employed  the  lifetime  of  many 
and  baffled  them  in  the  end.  He  answered  them  -as 
if  they  were  the  very  alphabet  of  knowledge.  These 
alarmed  and  perturbed  disciples  ask  Him  :  "  Is  there  a 
life  beyond  ?  is  there  another  side  of  death  ?  "  "  Yes," 
He  says,  "  through  death  I  go  to  the  Father."  "  Is 
there,"  they  ask,  "  for  us  also  a  life  beyond  ?  shall  such 
creatures  as  we  find  sufficient  and  suitable  habitation 
and  welcome  when  we  pass  from  this  warm,  well-known 
world  ?  "  "  In  My  Father's  house,"  He  says,  "  are 
many  mansions."  Confronted  with  .the  problems  that 
most  deeply  exercise  the  human  spirit,  He  without 
faltering  pronounces  upon  them.  For  every  question 
which  our  most  anxious  and  trying  experiences  dictate 


1 


126  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

He  has  the  ready  and  sufficient  answer.  "  He  is  the 
Truth." 

But  more  than  this  is  contained  in  His  words.  He 
says  not  merely  "  I  speak  the  truth,"  but  "  I  am  the 
Truth."  In  His  person  and  work  we  find  all  truth  that 
it  is  essential  to  know.  He  is  the  true  Man,  the  reve- 
lation of  perfect  manhood,  in  whom  we  see  what  human 
life  truly  is.  In  His  own  history  He  shows  us  our 
own  capacities  and  our  own  destiny.  An  angel  or  an 
inanimate  law  might  iell  us  the  truth  about  human  life, 
but  Christ  is  the  Truth.  He  is  man  like  ourselves.  If 
we  are  extinguished  at  death,  so  is  He.  If  for  us  there 
is  no  future  life,  neither  is  there  for  Him.  He  is 
Himself  human. 

Further  and  especially,  He  is  the  truth  about  God  : 
"  If  ye  had  known  Me,  ye  had  known  My  Father  also." 
Strenuous  efforts  are  being  made  in  our  day  to  convince 
us  that  all  .our  search  after  God  is  vain,  because  by  the 
very  nature  of  the  case  it  is  impossible  to  know  God, 
We  are  assured  that  all  our  imaginations  of  God  are 
but  a  reflection  of  ourselves  magnified  infinitely  ;  and 
that  what  results  from  all  our  thinking  is  not  God,  but 
only  a  magnified  man.  We  form  in  our  thoughts  an 
ideal  of  human  excellence — perfect  holiness  and  perfect 
love ;  and  we  add  to  this  highest  moral  character  we  can 
conceive  a  supernatural  power  and  wisdom,-  and  this 
we  call  God.  But  this,  we  are  assured,  is  but  to  mis- 
lead ourselves  ;  for  what  we  thus  set  before  our  minds 
as  Divine  is  not  God,  but  only  a  higher  kind  of  man. 
But  God  is  not  a  higher  kind  of  man :  He  is  a  different 
kind  of  being — a  Being  to  whom  it  is  absurd  to 
ascribe  intelligence,  or  will,  or  personaHty,  or  anything 
human. 

We  have  felt  the  force  of  what  is  thus  urged ;  and 


xiv.  5-7]    THE   WAY,    THE   TRUTH,   AND   THE  LIFE.     127 

feeling  most  deeply  that  for  us  the  greatest  of  all 
questions  is,  What  is  God  ?  we  have  been  afraid  lest, 
after  all,  we  have  been  deluding  ourselves  with  an 
image  of  our  own  creating  very  different  from  the 
reality.  We  have  felt  that  there  is  a  great  truth  lying 
at  the  heart  of  what  is  thus  urged,  a  truth  which  the 
Bible  makes  as  much  of  as  philosophy  does — the  truth 
that  we  cannot  find  out  God,  cannot  comprehend  Him. 
We  say  certain  things  about  Him,  as  that  He  is  a 
Spirit ;  but  which  of  us  knows  what  a  pure  spirit  is, 
which  of  us  can  conceive  in  our  minds  a  distinct  idea 
of  what  we  so  freely  speak  of  as  a  spirit  ?  Indeed,  it 
is  because  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  have  any  sufficient 
idea  of  God  as  He  is  in  Himself  that  He  has  become 
man  and  manifested  Himself  in  flesh. 

This  revelation  of  God  in  man  implies  that  there  is 
an  affinity  and  likeness  between  God  and  man — that 
man  is  made  in  God's  image.  Were  it  not  so,  we 
should  see  in  Christ,  not  God  at  all,  but  only  man.  If 
God  is  manifest  in  Christ,  it  is  because  there  is  that  in 
God  which  can  find  suitable  expression  in  a  human  life 
and  person.  In  fact,  this  revelation  takes  for  granted 
that  in  a  sense  it  is  quite  true  that  God  is  a  magnified 
Man — that  He  is  a  Being  in  whom  there  is  much  that 
resembles  what  is  in  man.  And  it  stands  to  reason 
that  this  must  be  so.  It  is  quite  true  that  man  can 
only  conceive  what  is  like  himself;  but  that  is  only  half 
the  truth.  It  is  also  true  that  God  can  only  ereate 
what  is  consistent  with  His  own  mind.  In  His  crea- 
tures we  see  a  reflection  of  Himself  And  as  we 
ascend  from  the  lowest  of  them  to  the  highest,  we  see 
what  He  considers  the  highest  qualities.  Finding  in 
ourselves  these  highest  qualities — qualities  which  enable 
us  to  understand  all  lower  creatures  and  to  use  them — 


X 


128  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

we  gather  that  in  God  Himself  there  must  be  something 
akin  to  our  mind  and  to  our  inner  man. 
.,  r  Christ,  then,  is  "  the  Truth,"  because  He  is  the 
Revealer  of  God.  In  Him  we  learn  what  God  is  and 
how  to  approach  Him.  But  knowledge  is  not  enough. 
It  is  conceivable  that  we  should  have  learned  much 
about  God  and  yet  have  despaired  of  ever  becoming 
like  Him.  It  might  gradually  have  become  our  con- 
viction that  we  were  for  ever  shut  out  from  all  good, 
although  that  is  incompatible  with  a  true  knowledge  of 
God ;  for  if  God  is  known  at  all.  He  must  be  known 
as  Love,  as  self-communicating.  But  the  possibility  of 
having  knowledge  which  we  cannot  use  is  precluded 
by  the  fact  that  He  who  is  the  Truth  is  also  the  Life. 
In  Him  who  is  the  Revealer  we  at  the  same  time  find 
power  to  avail  ourselves  of  the  revelation.     For  : 

II.  "  I  am  the  Life."  The  declaration  .need  not  be 
restricted  to  the  immediate  occasion.  Christ  imparts 
to  men  power  to  use  the  knowledge  of  the  Father  He 
gives  them.  He  gives  men  desire,  will,  and  power  to 
live  with  God  and  in  God.  But  is  not  all  life  implied 
in  this  ?     This  is  life  as  men  are  destined  to  know  it. 

In  every  man  there  is  a  thirst  for  life.  Everything 
that  clogs,  impedes,  or  retards  life  we  hate; 'sickness, 
I  imprisonment,  death,  whatever  diminishes,  enfeebles, 
limits,  or  destroys  life,  we  abhor.  Happiness  means 
abundant  life,  great  vitality  finding  vent  for  itself  in 
healthy  ways.  Great  scope  or  opportunity  of  living  to 
good  purpose  is  useless  to  the  invalid  who  has  little  life 
in  himself;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  abundant  vitality 
is  only  a  pain  to  the  man  who  is  shut  up  and  can  spend 
his  energy  only  in  pacing  a  cell  eight  feet  by  four.  Our 
happiness  depends  upon  these  two  conditions — perfect 
energy  and  infinite  scope. 


xiv.  5-7]    THE   WAY,    THE   TRUTH,  AND   THE  LIFE.     129 

But  can  we  assure  ourselves  of  either  ?  Is  not  the 
one  certainty  of  hfe,  as  we  know  it,  that  it  must  end  ? 
Is  it  not  certain  that,  no  matter  what  energy  the  most 
vigorous  of  us  enjoy,  we  shall  all  one  day  "  He  in  cold 
obstruction  "  ?  Naturally  we  fear  that  time,  as  if  all 
life  were  then  to  end  for  us.  We  shrink  from  that 
apparent  termination,  as  if  beyond  it  there  could  be  but 
a  shadowy,  spectral  life  in  which  nothing  is  substantial, 
nothing  lively,  nothing  delightsome,  nothing  strong. 
That  state  which  we  shrink  from  our  Lord  chooses  as 
a  condition  of  perfect  life,  abundant  and  untrammelled. 
And  what  He  has  chosen  for  Himself  He  means  to 
bestow  upon  us. 

Why  should  we  find  it  so  hard  to  believe  in  that 
abundant  life  ?  There  is  a  sufficient  source  of  physical 
life  which  upholds  the  universe  and  is  not  burdened, 
which  in  continuance  and  exuberantly  brings  forth  life 
in  inconceivably  various  forms.  The  world  around  us 
indicates  a  source  of  life  which  seems  always  to  grow 
and  expand  rather  than  to  be  exhausted.  So  there  is 
a  source  of  spiritual  life,  a  force  sufficient  to  uphold  all 
men  in  righteousness  and  in  eternal  vitality  of  spirit, 
and  which  can  give  birth  to  ever  new  and  varied  forms 
of  heroic,  holy,  godly  living — a  force  which  is  ever 
pressing  forward  to  find  expression  through  all  moral 
beings,  and  capable  of  making  all  human  action  as 
perfect,  as  beautiful,  and  infinitely  more  significant  than 
the  products  of  physical  life  which  we  see  around  us. 
If  the  flowers  profusely  scattered  by  the  wayside  are 
marvels  of  beauty,  if  the  bodily  frame  of  man  and  of 
the  other  animals  is  continually  surprising  us  with 
some  new  revelation  of  exquisite  arrangement  of  parts, 
if  nature  is  so  lavish  and  so  perfect  in  physical  Hfe, 
may  we  not  believe  that  there  is  as  rich  a  fountain  of 
VOL.   li.  g 


130  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

moral  and  spiritual  life  ?  Nay,  "  the  youths  may  faint 
and  be  weary,  and  the  young  men  utterly  fall,"  physical 
life  may  fail  and  in  the  nature  of  things  must  fail, 
"  but  they  that  wait  upon  the  Lord  shall  renew  their 
strength,  they  shall  run  and  not  be  weary." 

It  is  Jesus  Christ  who  brings  us  into  connection  with 
this  source  of  life  eternal — He  bears  it  in  His  own 
person.  In  Him  we  receive  a  new  spirit;  in  Him 
our  motive  to  live  for  rigliteoiisiiess  is  continually 
renewed ;  we  are  conscious  that  in  Him  we  touch  what 
is  undying  and  never  fails  to  renew  spiritual  life  in  us. 
Whatever  we  need  to  give  us  true  and  everlasting  life 
we  have  in  Christ.  Whatever  we  need  to  enable  us  to 
/come  to  the  Father,  whatever  we  shall  need  between 
I  this  present  stage  of  experience  and  our  final  stage,  we 
have  in  Him. 

The  more,  then,  we  use  Christ,  the  more  life  we  have. 
,  The  more  we  are  with  Him  and  the  more  we  partake 
y  y  (of  His  Spirit,  the  fuller  does  our  own  life  become.  It 
is  not  by  imitating  successful  men  we  become  influential 
for  good,  but  by  living  with  Christ.  It  is  not  by  adopt- 
ing the  habits  and  methods  of  saints  we  become  strong 
and  useful,  but  by  accepting  Christ  and  His  Spirit. 
Nothing  can  take  the  place  of  Christ.  Nothing  can 
take  His  words  and  say  to  us,  "  I  am  the  Life."  If  we 
wish  life,  if  we  see  that  we  are  doing  little  good  and 
desire  energy  to  overtake  the  good  that  needs  to  be  done, 
it  is  to  Him  we  must  go.  If  we  feel  as  if  all  our  efforts 
were  vain,  and  as  if  we  could  not  bear  up  any  longer 
against  our  circumstances  or  against  our  wicked  nature, 
we  can  receive  fresh  vigour  and  hopefulness  only  from 
Christ.  We  need  not  be  surprised  at  our  failures  if  we 
are  not  receiving  from  Christ  the  life  that  is  in  Him. 
And  nothing  can  give  us  the  life  that  is  in  Him  but 


xiv.  5-7-]     THE   WAY,    THE   TRUTH,  AND   THE  LIFE.     131 


our  own  personal  application  to  Him,  our  direct  dealing 
with  Himself.  Ordinances  and  sacraments  help  to  y 
bring  Him  clearly  before  us,  but  they  are  not  living  and 
cannot  give  us  life.  It  is  only  in  so  far  as  through 
and  in  them  we  reach  Christ  and  receive  Him  that  we 
partake  of  that  highest  of  all  forms  of  life — the  life  that 
is  in  Him,  the  living  One,  by  whom  all  things  were 
made,  and  who  in  the  very  face  of  death  can  say, 
"  Because  I  live  ye  shall  live  also." 

III.  Being  the  Revealer  of  the  Father,  and  giving 
men  power  to  approach  God  and  live  in  Him,  Jesus 
legitimately  designates  Himself  "  the  Way."  Jesus 
never  says  "I  am  the  Father";  He  does  not  even 
say  "  I  am  God,"  for  that  might  have  produced  mis- 
understanding. He  uniformly  speaks  as  if  there  were 
One  on  whom  He  Himself  leant,  and  to  whom  He 
prayed,  and  with  whom,  as  with  another  person,  He 
had  fellowship.  "  I  am  the  Way,"  He  says ;  and  a> 
way  implies  a  goal  beyond  itself,  some  further  object 
to  which  it  leads  and  brings  us.  He  is  not  the  Being 
revealed,  but  the  Revealer ;  not  the  terminal  object 
of  our  worship,  but  the  image  of  the  invisible  God,  the 
Priest,  the  Sacrifice. 

Christ  announces  Himself  to  Thomas  as  the  Way, 
in  order  to  remove  from  the  mind  of  the  disciple  the 
uncertainty  he  felt  about  the  future.  He  knew  there 
were  heights  of  glory  and  blessedness  to  which  the 
Messiah  would  certainly  attain,  but  which  seemed  dim 
and  remote  and  even  quite  unattainable  to  sinful  men. 
Jesus  defines  at  once  the  goal  and  the  way.  All  our 
vague  yearnings  after  what  will  satisfy  us  He  reduces 
to  this  simple  expression  :  "  the  Father."  This,  He ' 
implies,  is  the  goal  and  destiny  of  man  ;  to  come  to  the 
Father,  who  embraces  in  His  loving  care  all  our  wants, 


132  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

our  incapacities,  our  sorrows  ;  to  reach  and  abide  in  a 
love  that  is  strong,  wise,  educative,  imperishable  ;  to 
reach  this  love  and  be  so  transformed  by  it  as  to  feel 
more  at  home  with  this  perfectly  holy  God  than  with 
any  besides.  And  to  bring  us  to  this  goal  is  the 
function  of  Christ,  the  Way.  It  is  His  to  bring 
together  what  is  highest  and  what  is  lowest.  It  is  His 
to  unite  those  who  are  separated  by  the  most  real 
obstacles  :  to  bring  us,  weak  and  unstable  and  full  of 
evil  imaginings,  into  abiding  union  with  the  Supreme, 
glad  to  be  conformed  to  Him  and  to  accompHsh  His 
purposes.  In  proclaiming  Himself  "  the  Way,"  Christ 
pronounces  Himself  able  to  effect  the  most  real  union 
between  parties  and  conditions  as  separate  as  heaven 
and  earth,  sin  and  holiness,  the  poor  creature  I  know 
myself  to  be  and  the  infinite  and  eternal  God  who  is 
so  high  I  cannot  know  Him. 

Further,  the  way  to  which  we  commit  ourselves 
when  we  seek  to  come  to  the  Father  through  Christ 
is  a  Person.  "I  am  the  Way."  It  is  not  a  cold,  dead 
road  we  have  to  make  the  most  of  for  ourselves, 
pursuing  it  often  in  darkness,  in  weakness,  in  fear. 
It  is  a  living  way — a  way  that  renews  our  strength  as 
we  walk  in  it,  that  enlivens  instead  of  exhausting  us, 
that  gives  direction  and  light  as  we  go  forward.  Often 
we  seem  to  find  our  way  barred  ;  we  do  not  know  how 
to  get  farther  forward  ;  we  wonder  if  there  is  no  book 
in  which  we  can  find  direction  ;  we  long  for  some  wise 
guide  who  could  show  us  how  to  proceed.  At  such 
times  Christ  would  have  us  hear  Him  saying,  "  I  am  the 
Way.  If  you  abide  in  Me,  if  you  continue  in  My 
love,  you  are  in  the  way  and  must  be  carried  forward 
to  all  good."  Often  we  seem  to  lose  ourselves  and 
cannot  tell  whether  our  faces  and  our  steps  are  directed 


xiv.  5-7]     THE  WAY,    THE   TRUTH,  AND   THE  LIFE.     133 

aright  or  not ;  we  become  doubtful  whether  we  have 
been  making  any  progress  or  have  not  rather  been 
going  back.  Often  we  lose  heart  and  begin  to  doubt 
whether  it  is  possible  for  us  men  ever  to  reach  any 
purer,  higher  hfe ;  we  are  going,  we  say,  we  know  not 
whither ;  this  Ufe  is  full  of  blunders  and  failures. 
Many  of  the  best  and  most  earnest  and  gifted  men 
have  owned  their  ignorance  of  the  ^gur pose  of  life  and 
of  its  end.  No  voice  comes  to  us  out  of  the  unseen 
world  to  give  us  assurance  that  there  is  life  there. 
How  can  lonely,  ignorant,  irresolute,  weak,  and  helpless 
creatures  such  as  we  are  ever  attain  to  anything  we 
can  call  blessedness  ?  To  all  such  gloom  and  doubting 
Christ/  with  the  utmost  confidence,  says,  "  I  am  the 
Way.  Wherever  you  are,  at  whatever  point  of  expe- 
rience, at  whatever  stage  of  sin,  this  way  begins  where 
you  are,  and  you  have  but  to  take  it  and  it  leads  to  God, 
to  that  unknown  Highest  you  yearn  for  even  while  you 
shrink  from  Him.  From  your  person,  as  you  are  at 
this  moment,  there  leads  a  way  to  the  Father." 


X 


X. 

THE  FATHER  SEEN  IN  CHRIST. 


135 


"Philip  saith  unto  Him  Lord,  show  us  the  Father,  and  it  suRiceth 
us.  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  Have  I  been  so  longtime  vviih  you,  and  dost 
thou  not  know  Me,  Philip?  he  that  hath  seen  Me  hath  seen  the  Father ; 
how  sayest  thou.  Show  us  the  Father?  Believest  thou  not  that  I  am  in 
the  Father,  and  the  Father  in  Me  ?  the  words  that  I  say  unto  you  I 
speak  not  from  Myself :  but  the  Father  abiding  in  Me  doeth  His  works. 
Believe  Me  that  I  am  in  the  Father,  and  the  Father  in  Me  :  or  else 
believe  Me  for  the  very  works'  sake.  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you. 
He  that  believeth  on  Me,  the  works  that  I  do  shall  he  do  also  ;  and 
greater  works  than  these  shall  he  do ;  because  I  go  unto  the  Father. 
And  whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  in  My  name,  that  will  I  do,  that  the  Father 
may  be  glorified  in  the  Son.  If  ye  shall  ask  Me  anything  in  My  name, 
that  will  I  do.  If  ye  love  Me,  ye  will  keep  My  commandments.  And 
I  will  pray  the  Father,  and  He  shall  give  you  another  Comforter,  that 
He  may  be  with  you  for  ever,  even  the  Spirit  of  truth  :  whom  the  world 
cannot  receive  ;  ,for  it  beholdeth  Him  not,  neither  knoweth  Him  :  ye 
know  Him  ;  for  He  abideth  with  you,  and  shall  be  in  you.  I  will  not 
leave  you  desolate  :  I  come  unto  you.  Yet  a  little  while,  and  the  world 
beholdeth  Me  no  more  ;  but  ye  behold  Me  :  because  I  live,  ye  shall  live 
also.  In  that  day  ye  shall  know  that  I  am  in  My  Father,  and  ye  in  Me, 
and  I  in  you.  He  that  hath  My  commandments,  and  keepeth  them,  he 
it  is  that  lovetli  me  :  and  he  that  loveth  Me  shall  be  loved  of  My  Father, 
and  I  will  love  him,  and  will  manifest  Myself  unto  him." — John 
xiv.  S-2I. 


136 


X. 

THE  FATHER  SEEN  IN  CHRIST. 

A  THIRD  interruption  on  the  part  of  one  of  the 
disciples  gives  the  Lord  occasion  to  be  still  more 
explicit.  Philip  is  only  further  bewildered  by  the 
words,  "  from  henceforth  ye  know  the  Father  and  have 
seen  Him."  He  catches,  however,  at  the  idea  that  the 
Father  can  be  seen,  and  eagerly  exclaims,  "  Lord,  show 
us  the  Father,  and  it  sufficeth  us."  In  this  exclama- 
tion there  may  be  a  little  of  that  vexed  and  almost 
irritated  feeling  that  every  one  at  times  has  felt  in 
reading  the  words  of  Christ.  We  feel  as  if  He  might 
have  made  things  plainer.  We  unconsciously  reproach 
Him  with  making  a  mystery,  with  going  about  and 
about  a  subject  and  refusing  to  speak  straight  at  it. 
Philip  felt  that  if  Christ  could  show  the  Father,  then 
there  was  no.  need  of  any  more  enigmatical  talk. 

Ignorant  as  this  request  may  be,  it  sprang  from  the 
thirst  for  God  which  was  felt  by  an  earnest  and  godly 
man.  It  arose  from  the  craving  that  now  and  again 
visits  every  soul  to  get  to  the  heart  of  all  mystery. 
Here  in  this  life  we  are  much  in  the  dark.  We 
feel  ourselves  to  be  capable  of  better  enjoyments, 
of  a  higher  life.  The  whole  creation  groaneth  and 
travaileth,  as  if  striving  towards  some  better  and 
more  satisfying  state.     There  is  a  something  not  yet 

137 


138  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

attained  which  we  feel  we  must  reach.  Were  this 
life  all,  we  should  pronounce  existence  a  failure.  And 
yet  there  is  great  uncertainty  over  our  future.  There 
is  no  familiar  intercourse  with  those  who  have  passed 
on  and  are  now  in  the  other  world.  We  have  no  oppor- 
tunity of  informing  ourselves  of  their  state  and  occupa- 
tions. We  go  on  in  great  darkness  and  often  with 
a  feeling  of  great  insecurity  and  trepidation  ;  feeling 
lost,  in  darkness,  not  knowing  whither  we  are  going, 
not  sure  that  we  are  in  the  way  to  life  and  happiness. 
Why,  we  are  tempted  to  ask,  should  there  be  so  much 
uncertainty  ?  Why  should  we  live  so  remote  from  the 
centre  of  things,  and  have  to  grope  our  way  to  life  and 
light,  clouded  by  doubts,  beset  by  misleading  and  dis- 
turbing influences  ?  "  Show  us  the  Father,"  we  are 
tempted  to  say  with  Philip — show  us  the  Father  and  it 
sufficeth  us.  Show  us  the  Supreme.  Show  us  the 
eternal  One  who  governs  all.  Take  us  but  once  to  the 
centre  of  things  and  show  us  the  Father  in  whom  we 
live.  Take  us  for  once  behind  the  scenes  and  let  us 
see  the  hand  that  moves  all  things  ;  let  us  know  all  that 
can  be  known,  that  we  may  see  what  it  is  we  are  going 
to,  and  what  is  to  become  of  us  when  this  visible  world 
is  done..  Give  us  assurance  that  behind  all  this  dumb, 
immovable  mask  of  outward  things  there  is  a  Hving  God 
whose  love  we  can  trust  and  whose  power  can  preserve 
us  to  life  everlasting. 

To  Philip's  eager  request  Jesus  replies :  "  Have 
I  been  so  long  time  with  you,  and  hast  thou  not 
known  Me,  Philip  ?  He  that  hath  seen  Me  hath  seen 
the  Father ;  how  sayest  thou.  Show  us  the  Father  ?  " 
And  it  is  thus  our  Lord  addresses  all  whose  unsatisfied 
craving  finds  voice  in  Philip's  request.  To  all  who 
crave     some    more   immediate,    if  not    more   sensible 


xiv.8-2i.]         THE  FATHER  SEEN  IN  CHRIST.  139 

manifestation  of  God,  to  all  who  live  in  doubt  and 
feel  as  if  more  might  be  done  to  give  us  certitude 
regarding  the  relation  we  hold  to  God  and  to  the 
future,  Christ  says :  No  further  revelation  is  to  be 
made,  because  no  further  revelation  is  needed  or  can 
be  made.  All  has  been  shown  that  can  be  shown. 
There  is  no  more  of  the  Father  you  can  see  than  you 
have  seen  in  Me.  God  has  taken  that  form  which 
is  most  comprehensible  to  you — your  own  form,  the 
form  of  man.  You  have  seen  the  Father.  I  am  the 
truth,  the  reality.  It  is  no  longer  a  symbol  telling 
you  something  about  a  distant  God,  but  the  Father 
Himself  is  in  Me,  speaking  and  acting  among  you 
through  Me. 

What  do  we  find  in  Christ  ?  We  find  perfection 
of  moral  character,  superiority  to  circumstances,  to  the 
elements,  to  disease,  to  death.  We  find  in  Him  One 
who  forgives  sin  and  brings  peace  of  conscience,  who 
bestows  the  Holy  Spirit  and  leads  to  perfect  righteous- 
ness. We  cannot  imagine  anything  in  God  which 
is  not  made  present  to  us  in  Christ.  In  any  part  of 
the  universe  we  should  feel  secure  with  Christ.  In 
the  most  critical  spiritual  emergency  we  should  have 
confidence  that  He  could  right  matters.  In  the 
physical  and  in  the  spiritual  world  He  is  equally  at 
home  and  equally  commanding.  We  can  believe  Him 
when  He  says  that  he  that  has  seen  Him  has  seen  the 
Father, 

What  precisely  does  this  utterance  mean  ?  Does 
it  only  mean  that  Jesus  in  His  holy  and  loving  ways 
and  in  the  whole  of  His  character  was  God's  very 
image  ?  As  you  might  say  of  a  son  who  strongly 
resembles  his  father,  "  If  you  have  seen  the  one,  you 
have  seen  the  other,"     It  is  true  that  the  self-sacrifice 


140  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


and  humility  and  devotedness  of  Jesus  did  give  men 
new  views  of  the  true  character  of  God,  that  His 
conduct  was  an  exact  transcript  of  God's  mind  and 
conveyed  to  men  new  thoughts  of  God. 

But  it  is  plain  that  the  connection  between  Jesus 
and  God  was  a  different  kind  of  connection  from  that 
which  subsists  between  every  man  and  God.  Every 
man  might  in  a  sense  say,  "  I  am  in  the  Father  and 
the  Father  in  me."  But  plainly  the  very  fact  that 
Jesus  said  to  Philip,  "  Believest  thou  not  that  I  am 
in  the  Father  and  the  Father  in  Me  ?  "  is  proof  that 
it  was  not  this  ordinary  connection  He  had  in  view. 
Philip  could  have  had  no  difficulty  in  perceiving  and 
acknowledging  that  God  was  in  Jesus  as  He  is  in 
every  man.  But  if  that  were  all  that  Jesus  meant, 
then  it  was  wholly  out  of  place  to  appeal  to  the  works 
the  Father  had  given  Him  to  do  in  proof  of  this 
assertion. 

When,  therefore,  Jesus  said,  "  He  that  hath  seen  Me 
hath  seen  the  Father,"  He  did  not  merely  mean  that 
by  His  superior  holiness  He  had  revealed  the  Father 
as  no  other  man  had  done  (although  even  this  would 
be  a  most  surprising  assertion  for  any  mere  man  to 
make — that  He  was  so  holy  that  whoever  had  seen 
Him  had  seen  the  absolutely  holy  God),  but  He  meant 
that  God  was  present  with  Him  in  a  special  manner. 

So  important  was  it  that  the  disciples  should  firmly 
grasp  the  truth  that  the  Father  was  in  Christ  that 
Jesus  proceeds  to  enlarge  upon  the  proof  or  evidence 
of  this.  In  the  course  of  doing  so  He  imparts  to  them 
three  assurances  fitted  to  comfort  them  in  the  prospect 
of  His  departure  :  first,  that  so  far  from  being  weakened 
by  His  going  to  the  Father,  they  will  do  greater  works 
than  even  those  which  had  proved  that  the  Father  was 


xiv.8-2i.]        THE  FATHER  SEEN  IN  CHRIST.  I4t 

present  with  Him  ;  second,  that  He  would  not  leave 
them  friendless  and  without  support,  but  would  send 
them  the  Paraclete,  the  Spirit  of  truth,  who  should 
abide  with  them  ;  and  third,  that  although  the  world 
would  not  see  Him,  they  would,  and  would  recognise 
that  He  was  the  maintainer  of  their  own  life. 

But  all  this  experience  would  serve  to  convince 
them  that  the  Father  was  in  Him.  He  had.  He  says, 
lived  among  them  as  the  representative  of  the  Father, 
uttering  His  will,  doing  His  works.  These  works 
might  have  convinced  them  even  if  they  were  not 
spiritual  enough  to  perceive  that  His  words  were 
Divine  utterances.  But  a  time  was  coming  when  a 
satisfying  conviction  of  the  truth  that  God  had  been 
present  with  them  in  the  presence  of  Jesus  would 
be  wrought  in  them.  When,  after  His  departure, 
they  found  themselves  doing  the  works  of  God,  greater 
works  than  Jesus  had  done,  when  they  found  that  the 
Spirit  of  truth  dwelt  in  them,  imparting  to  them  the 
very  mind  and  life  of  Christ  Himself,  then  they  should 
be  certified  of  the  truth  that  Jesus  now  declared,  that 
the  Father  was  in  Him  and  He  in  the  Father.  "  At 
that  day  ye  shall  know  that  I  am  in  My  Father,  and 
you  in  Me,  and  I  in  you."  What  their  understanding 
could  not  at  present  quite  grasp,  the  course  of  events 
and  their  own  spiritual  experience  would  make  plain 
to  them.  When  in  the  prosecution  of  Christ's  instruc- 
tions they  strove  to  fulfil  His  commands  and  carry  out 
His  will  upon  earth,  they  would  find  themselves  coun- 
tenanced and  supported  by  powers  unseen,  would  find 
their  life  sustained  by  the  life  of  Christ. 

Jesus,  then,  speaks  here  of  three  grades  of  con- 
viction regarding  His  claim  to  be  God's  representative : 
three  kinds  of  evidence — a  lower,  a  higher,  and  the 


142  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

highest.  There  is  the  evidence  of  His  miracles,  the 
evidence  of  His  words  or  His  own  testimony,  and 
the  evidence  of  the  new  spiritual  life  He  would  main- 
tain in  His  followers. 

Miracles  are  not  the  highest  evidence,  but  they  are 
evidence.  One  miracle  might  not  be  convincing  evi- 
dence. Many  miracles  of  the  same  kind,  such  as  a 
number  of  cures  of  nervous  complaints,  or  several  suc- 
cessful treatments  of  blind  persons,  might  only  indicate 
superior  knowledge  of  morbid  conditions  and  of  remedies. 
A  physician  in  advance  of  his  age  might  accomplish 
wonders.  Or  had  all  the  miracles  of  Jesus  been  such 
as  the  multiplication  of  the  loaves  and  fishes,  it  might, 
with  a  shade  of  plausibility,  have  been  urged  that  this 
was  legerdemain.  But  what  we  see  in  Jesus  is  not 
power  to  perform  an  occasional  wonder  to  make  men 
stare  or  to  win  for  Himself  applause,  but  power  as 
God's  representative  on  earth  to  do  whatever  is  needful 
for  the  manifestation  of  God's  presence  and  for  the 
fulfilment  of  God's  will.  It  may  surely  at  this  time 
of  day  be  taken  for  granted  that  Jesus  was  serious  and 
true.  The  works  are  given  Him  by  the  Father  to  do  : 
it  is  as  an  exhibition  of  God's  power  He  performs  them. 
They  are  therefore  performed  not  in  one  form  only, 
but  in  every  needed  form.  He  shows  command  over 
all  riature,  and  gives  evidence  that  spirit  is -superior 
to  matter  and  rules  it. 

The  miracles  of  Christ  are  also  convincing  because 
they  are  performed  by  a  miraculous  Person.  That  an 
ordinary  man  should  seem  to  rule  nature,  or  should 
exhibit  wonders  on  no  adequate  occasion,  must  always 
seem  unlikely,  if  not  incredible.  But  that  a  Person 
notoriously  exceptional,  being  what  no  other  man  has 
ever   been,   should  do   things  that   no  other  man   has 


xiv.8-2i.]        THE  FATHER  SEEN  IN  CHRIST.  143 

done,  excites  no  incredulity.  That  Christ  was  supremely 
and  absolutely  holy  no  one  doubts  ;  but  this  itself  is 
a  miracle  ;  and  that  this  miraculous  Person  should  act 
miraculously  is  not  unlikely.  Moreover,  there  was 
adequate  occasion  both  for  the  miracle  of  Christ's 
person  and  the  miracle  of  His  life  and  separate  acts. 
There  was  an  end  to  be  served  so  great  as  to  justify 
this  interruption  of  the  course  of  things  as  managed 
by  men.  If  miracles  are  possible,  then  they  could  never 
be  more  worthily  introduced.  If  at  any  time  it  might 
seem  appropriate  and  needful  that  the  unseen,  holy, 
and  loving  God  should  assert  His  power  over  all  that 
touches  us  His  children,  so  as  to  give  us  the  conscious- 
ness of  His  presence  and  of  His  faithfulness,  surely 
that  time  was  precisely  then  when  Christ  came  forth 
from  the  Father  to  reveal  His  holiness  and  His  love, 
to  show  men  that  supreme  power  and  supreme  holiness 
and  love  reside  together  in  God. 

At  present  men  are  swinging  from  an  excessive 
exaltation  of  miracles  to  an  excessive  depreciation  of 
them.  They  sometimes  speak  as  if  no  one  could  work 
a  miracle,  and  sometimes  as  if  any  one  could  work 
a  miracle.  Having  discovered  that  miracles  do  not 
convince  every  one,  they  leap  to  the  conclusion  that 
they  convince  no  one  ;  and  perceiving  that  Christ  does 
not  place  them  on  the  highest  platform  of  evidence, 
they  proceed  to  put  them  out  of  court  altogether. 
This  is  inconsiderate  and  unwise.  The  miracles  of 
Christ  are  appealed  to  by  Himself  as  evidence  of  His 
truth ;  and  looking  at  them  in  connection  with  His 
person.  His  life,  and  His  mission  or  object,  considering 
their  character  as  works  of  compassion,  and  their  instruc- 
tive revelation  of  the  nature  and  purpose  of  Him  who 
did  them,  we  cannot,  I  think,  but  feel  that  they  carry 


144  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

in  them  a  very  strong  claim  upon  our  most  serious 
attention  and  do  help  us  to  trust  in  Christ. 

But  Christ  Himself,  in  the  words  before  us,  expects 
that  those  who  have  listened  to  His  teaching  and  seen 
His  life  should  need  no  other  evidence  that  God  is 
in  Him  and  He  in  God — should  not  require  to  go  down 
and  back  to  the  preliminary  evidence  of  miracles  which 
may  serve  to  attract  strangers.  And,  obviously,  we 
get  closer  to  the  very  heart  of  any  person,  nearer 
to  the  very  core  of  their  being,  through  their  ordinary 
and  habitual  demeanour  and  conversation  than  by  con- 
sidering their  exceptional  and  occasional  acts.  And  it 
is  a  great  tribute  to  the  power  and  beauty  of  Christ's 
personality  that  it  actually  is  not  His  miracles  which 
solely  or  chiefly  convince  us  of  His  claims  upon  our 
confidence,  but  rather  His  own  character  as  it  shines 
through  His  talks  with  His  disciples  and  yvith  all  men 
He  met.  This,  we  feel,  is  the  Person  for  us.  Here 
we  have  t'he  human  ideal.  The  characteristics  here 
disclosed  are  those  which  ought  everywhere  to  prevail. 

But  the  crowning  evidence  of  Christ's  unity  with 
the  Father  can  be  enjoyed  only  by  those  who  share 
His  life.  The  conclusive  evidence  which  for  ever 
scatters  doubt  and  remains  abidingly  as  the  immovable 
ground  of  confidence  in  Christ  is  our  individual  accept- 
ance of  His  Spirit.  Christ's  life  in  God,  His  identifi- 
cation with  the  ultimate  source  of  life  and  power,  is  to 
become  one  of  the  unquestioned  facts  of  consciousness, 
one  of  the  immovable  data  of  human  existence.  We 
shall  one  day  be  as  sure  of  His  unity  with  the  Father, 
and  that  in  Christ  our  life  is  hid  in  God,  as  we  are 
sure  that  now  we  are  alive.  Faith  in  Christ  is  to 
become  an  unquestioned  certainty.  How  then  is  this 
assurance  to  be  attained  ?     It  is  to  be  attained  when 


xiv.8-2i.]         THE   FATHER   SEEN  IN   CHRIST.  I4S 

we  ourselves  as  Christ's  agents  do  greater  works  than 
He  Himself  did,  and  when  by  the  power  of  His  spiritual 
presence  with  us  we  live  as  He  lived. 

Christ  calls  our  attention  to  this  with  His  usual 
formula  when  about  to  declare  a  surprising  but  im- 
portant truth  :  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  He  that 
believeth  on  Me  shall  do  greater  works  than  these." 
Beginning  with  such  evidence  and  such  trust  as  we 
can  attain,  we  shall  be  encouraged  by  finding  the 
practical  strength  which  comes  of  union  with  Christ. 
It  speedily  became  apparent  to  the  disciples  that  our 
Lord  meant  what  He  said  when  He  assured  them  that 
they  would  do  greater  works  than  He  had  done.  His 
miracles  had  amazed  them  and  had  done  much  good. 
And  yet,  after  all,  they  were  necessarily  very  limited 
in  number,  in  the  area  of  their  exercise,  and  in  the 
permanence  of  their  results.  Many  were  healed ;  but 
many,  many  more  remained  diseased.  And  even  those 
who  were  healed  were  not  rendered  permanently  un- 
assailable by  disease.  The  eyes  of  the  blind  which 
were  opened  for  a  year  or  two  must  close  shortly  in 
death.  ,  The  paralysed,  though  sent  from  Christ's 
presence  healed,  must  yield  to  the  debilitating  influ- 
ences of  age  and  betake  themselves  again  to  the  crutch 
or  the  couch.  Lazarus  given  back  for  a  time  to  his 
sorrowing  sisters  must  again,  and  this  time  without 
recall,  own  the  power  of  death.  And  how  far  did  the 
influence  of  Christ  penetrate  into  these  healed  persons  ? 
Did  they  all  obey  His  words  and  sin  no  more  ?  or  did 
some  worse  thing  than  the  disease  He  freed  them  from 
fall  upon  some  of  them  ?  Was  there  none  who  used 
his  restored  eyesight  to  minister  to  sin,  his  restored 
energies  to  do  more  wickedness  than  otherwise  would 
have  been   possible  ?     In   one  word,    the    miracles   of 

VOL.  II.  10 


146  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

Christ,  great  as  they  were  and  beneficent  as  they  were, 
were  still  confined  to  the  body,  and  did  not  directly 
touch  the  spirit  of  man. 

But  was  this  the  object  of  Christ's  coming  ?  Did 
He  come  to  do  a  little  less  than  several  of  the  great 
medical  discoverers  have  done  ?  Assuredly  not. 
These  works  of  healing  which  He  wrought  on  the 
bodies  of  men  were,  as  John  regularly  calls  them, 
"signs"  ;  they  were  not  acts  terminating  in  themselves, 
and  finding  their  full  significance  in  the  happiness  com- 
municated to  the  healed  persons ;  they  were  signs 
pointing  to  a  power  over  men's  spirits,  and  suggesting 
to  men  analogous  but  everlasting  benefits.  Christ 
wrought  His  miracles  that  men,  beginning  with  what 
they  could  see  and  appreciate,  might  be  led  on  to 
believe  in  and  trust  Him  for  power  to  help  them  in  all 
their  matters.  And  now  He  expressly  announces  to 
His  disciples  that  these  works  which  He  had  been 
doing  were  not  miracles  of  the  highest  kind  ;  that 
miracles  of  the  highest  kind  were  works  of  healing  and 
renewal  wrought  not  on  the  bodies  biit  on  the  souls  of 
men,  works  whose  effects  would  not  be  deleted  by 
disease  and  death,  but  would  be  permanent,  works 
which  should  not  be  confined  to  Palestine,  but  should 
be  coextensive  with  the  human  race.  And  these 
greater  works  He  would  now  proceed  to  accomplish 
through  His  disciples.  By  His  removal  from  earth 
His  work  was  not  to  be  stopped,  but  to  pass  into  a 
higher  stage.  He  had  come  to  earth  not  to  make  a 
passing  display  of  Divine  power,  not  to  give  a  tanta- 
lising glimpse  of  what  the  world  might  be  were  His 
power  acting  freely  and  continuously  in  it ;  but  He  had 
come  to  lead  us  to  apprehend  the  value  of  spiritual 
health  and  to  trust  Him  for  that.     And  now  that  He 


xiv.8-2i.]        THE  FATHER  SEEN  IN  CHRIST.  147 

had  won  men's  trust  and  taught  a  few  to  love  Him  and 
to  value  His  Spirit,  He  removes  Himself  from  their 
sight,  and  puts  Himself  beyond  the  reach  of  those  who 
merely  sought  for  earthly  benefits,  that  He  may  through 
the  Spirit  come  to  all  who  understood  how  much  greater 
are  spiritual  benefits. 

This  crowning  evidence  of  Christ's  being  with  the 
Father  and  in  Him  the  disciples  very  soon  enjoyed. 
On  the  day  of  Pentecost  they  f—'*^H  such  results  follow- 
ing from  their  simple  word  as  „ad  never  followed  the 
word  of  Christ.  Thousands  were  renewed  in  heart 
and  life.  And  from  that  day  to  this  these  greater 
works  have  never  ceased.  And  why  ?  "  Because  I 
go  to  the  Father."  And  two  reasons  are  given  in  these 
simple  words.  In  the  first  place,  no  such  results 
could  be  accoinplished  by  Christ  because  not  till  He 
died  was  the  Father's  love  fully  known.  It  was  the 
death  and  resurrection  of  Christ  that  convinced  men 
of  the  truth  of  what  Christ  had  proclaimed  in  His  life 
and  in  His  words  regarding  the  Father,  The  tender 
compunction  which  was  stirred  by  His  death  gave  a 
purchase  to  the  preacher  of  repentance  which  did  not 
previously  exist.  It  is  Christ's  death  and  resurrection 
which  have  been  the  converting  influence  through  all 
the  ages,  and  these  Christ  Himself  could  not  preach.  It 
was  only  when  He  had  gone  to  the  Father  that  the 
greater  works  of  His  kingdom  could  be  done.  Besides, 
it  was  only  then  that  the  greater  works  could  be  under- 
stood and  longed  for.  The  fact  is,  that  the  death  and 
resurrection  of  Christ  radically  altered  men's  concep- 
tions of  the  spiritual  world,  and  gave,  them  a  belief  in  a 
future  life  of  the  spirit  such  as  they  previously  had  not 
and  could  not  have.  When  men  came  experimentally 
into  contact  with  One  who  had  passed  through  death, 


THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


and  who  now  entered  the  unseen  world  full  of  plans 
and  of  vitality  to  execute  them,  a  new  sense  of  the 
value  of  spiritual  benefits  was  born  within  them.  The 
fact  of  being  associated  with  a  living  Christ  at  God's 
right  hand  has  refined  the  spiritual  conceptions  of  men, 
and  has  given  a  quality  to  holiness  which  was  not 
previously  conspicuous.  The  spiritual  world  is  now 
real  and  near,  and  men  no  longer  think  of  Christ  as  a 
worker  of  miracles  on  physical  nature,  but  as  the  King 
of  the  world  unseen  and  the  willing  Source  of  all 
spiritual  good.  We  sometimes  wonder  Christ  preached 
so  little  and  spoke  so  little  as  men  do  now  in  directing 
sinners  to  Him ;  but  He  knew  that  while  He  lived  this 
was  almost  useless,  and  that  events  would  proclaim 
Him  more  effectually  than  any  words. 

But  when  Christ  gives  as  a  reason  for  the  greater 
works  of  His  disciples  that  He  Himself  went  to  the 
Father,  He  also  means  that,  being  with  the  Father,  He 
would  be  in  the  place  of  power,  able  to  respond  to  the 
prayers  of  His  people.  "I  go  unto  the  Father,  and 
whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  in  My  name  that  will  I  do." 
No  man  in  Christ's  circumstances  would  utter  such 
words  at  random.  They  are  uttered  with  a  perfect 
knowledge  of  the  difficulties  and  in  absolute  good  faith. 
But  praying  "  in  Christ's  name "  is  hot  so  easy  an 
achievement  as  we  are  apt  to  think.  Praying  in 
Christ's  name  means,  no  doubt,  that  we  go  to  God,  not 
in  our  own  name,  but  in  His.  He  has  given  us  power 
to  use  His  name,  as  when  we  send  a  messenger  we  bid 
him  use  our  name.  Sometimes  when  we  send  a  person 
to  a  friend  we  are  almost  afraid  to  give  him  our  name, 
knowing  that  our  friend  will  be  anxious  for  our  sakes 
to  do  all  he  can  and  perhaps  too  much  for  the  applicant. 
And  in  going  to  God  in  the  name  of  Christ,  as  those 


xiv.8-2i.]        THE  FATHER  SEEN  IN  CHRIST.  149 

who  can  plead  His  friendship  and  are  identified  with 
Him,  we  know  we  are  sure  of  a  loving  and  liberal 
reception. 

But  praying  in  Christ's  name  means  more  than  this. 
It  means  that  we  pray  for  such  things  as  will  promote 
Christ's  kingdom.  When  we  do  anything  in  another's 
name,  it  is  for  him  we  do  it.  When  we  take  possession 
of  a  property  or  a  legacy  in  the  name  of  some  society,  it 
is  not  for  our  own  private  advantage  but  for  the  society 
we  take  possession.  When  an  officer  arrests  any  one 
in  the  Queen's  name,  it  is  not  to  satisfy  his  private 
malice  he  does  so ;  and  when  he  collects  money  in  the 
name  of  government,  it  is  not  to  fill  his  own  pocket. 
Yet  how  constantly  do  we  overlook  this  obvious  con- 
dition of  acceptable  prayer  !  To  pray  in  Christ's  name 
is  to  seek  what  He  seeks,  to  ask  aid  in  promoting 
what  He  has  at  heart.  To  come  in  Christ's  name  and 
plead  selfish  and  worldly  desires  is  absurd.  To  pray 
in  Christ's  name  is  to  pray  in  the  spirit  in  which  He 
Himself  prayed  and  for  objects  He  desires.  When  we 
measure  our  prayers  by  this  rule,  we  cease  to  wonder 
that  so  few  seem  to  be  answered.  Is  God  to  answer 
prayers  that  positively  lead  men  away  from  Him  ?  Is 
He  to  build  them  up  in  the  presumption  that  happiness 
can  be  found  in  the  pursuit  of  selfish  objects  and 
worldly  comfort  ?  It  is  when  a  man  stands,  as  these 
disciples  stood,  detached  from  worldly  hopes  and  finding 
all  in  Christ,  so  clearly  apprehending  the  sweep  and 
benignity  of  Christ's  will  as  to  see  that  it  comprehends 
all  good  to  man,  and  that  life  can  serve  no  purpose  if  it 
do  not  help  to  fulfil  that  will — it  is-  then  a  man  prays 
with  assurance  and  finds  his  prayer  answered.  Christ 
had  won  the  love  of  these  men  and  knew  that  their 
chief    desire    would    be    to    serve     Him,    that    their 


I50  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

prayers  would  always  be  that  they  might  fulfil  His 
purposes.  Their  fear  was,  not  that  He  would  summon 
them  to  live  wholly  for  the  ends  for  which  He  had  lived, 
but  that  when  He  was  gone  they  should  find  themselves 
unfit  to  contend  with  the  world. 

And  therefore  He  gives  them  the  final  encourage- 
ment that  He  would  still  be  with  them,  not  indeed 
in  a  visible  form  apparent  to  all  eyes,  but  in  a  valid 
and  powerful  spiritual  manner  appreciable  by  those 
who  loved  Christ  and  strove  to  do  His  will.  "  If 
ye  love  Me,  keep  My  commandments.  And  I  will 
pray  the  Father,  and  He  shall  give  you  another  Com- 
forter," another  Advocate,  one  called  to  your  aid,  and 
who  shall  so  effectually  aid  you  that  in  His  presence 
and  help  you  will  know  Me  present  with  you.  "  I  will 
not  leave  you  comfortless,  like  orphans :  /  will  come 
to  you."  Christ  Himself  was  still  to  be  with  them. 
He  was  nqt  merely  to  leave  them  His  memory  and 
example,  but  was  to  be  with  them,  sustaining  and  guid- 
ing and  helping  them  even  as  He  had  done.  The  only 
difference  was  to  be  this — that  whereas  up  to  this  time 
they  had  verified  His  presence  by  their  senses,  seeing 
His  body,  hearing  His  words,  and  so  forth,  they  should 
henceforward  verify  His  presence  by  a  spiritual  sense 
which  the  world  of  those  who  did  not  love  Him  could 
not  make  use  of.  "  Yet  a  little  while,  and  the  world 
seeth  Me  no  more  ;  but  ye  see  Me  :  because  I  live,  ye 
shall  live  also."  They  would  find  that  their  life  was 
bound  up  in  His ;  and  as  that  new  life  of  theirs  grew 
strong  and  proved  itself  victorious  over  the  world  and 
powerful  to  subdue  men's  hearts  to  Christ  and  win  the 
world  to  Christ's  kingdom,  they  should  feel'  a  growing 
persuasion,  a  deepening  consciousness,  that,  this  life  of 
theirs  was  but  the  manifestation  of  the  continued  life 


xiv.8-2i.]        THE  FATHER  SEEN  IN  CHRIST.  151 

of  Christ.  "  At  that  day  they  would  know  that  Christ 
was  in  the  Father,  and  they  in  Him,  and  He  in  them." 
Consciousness,  then,  of  Christ's  present  hfe  and  of 
His  close  relation  to  ourselves  is  to  be  won  only  by 
loving  Him  and  living  in  Him  and  for  Him.  Lower 
grades  of  faith  there  are  on  which  most  of  us  stand, 
and  by  which,  let  us  hope,  we  are  slowly  ascending  to 
this  assured  and  ineradicable  consciousness.  Drawn 
to  Christ  we  are  by  the  beauty  of  His  life,  by  His 
evident  mastery  of  all  that  concerns  us,  by  His  know- 
ledge, by  the  revelation  He  makes  ;  but  doubts  assail 
us,  questionings  arise,  and  we  long  for  the  full 
assurance  of  the  personal  love  of  God  and  of  the  con- 
tinued personal  life  and  energy  of  Christ  which  would 
give  us  an  immovable  ground  to  stand  on.  According 
to  Christ's  explanation  given  in  this  passage  to  His 
disciples,  this  deepest  conviction,  this  unquestionable 
consciousness  of  His  presence,  is  attained  only  by 
those  who  proceed  upon  the  lower  grades  of  faith, 
and  with  true  love  for  Him  seek  to  find  their  life  in 
Him.  It  is  a  conviction  which  can  only  be  won 
experimentally.  The  disciples  passed  from  the  lower 
to  the  higher  faith  at  a  bound.  The  sight  of  the  risen 
Lord,  the  new  world  vividly  present  to  them  in  His 
person,  gave  their  devotedness  an  impulse  which 
carried  them  at  once  and  for  ever  to  certainty.  There 
are  many  still  who  are  so  drawn  by  spiritual  affinity 
to  Christ  that  unhesitatingly  and  unrepentingly  they 
give  themselves  wholly  to  Him,  and  have  the  reward 
of  a  conscious  life  in  Christ.  Others  have  more  slowly 
to  win  their  way  upwards,  fighting  against  unbelief, 
striving  to  give  themselves  more  undividedly  to  Christ, 
and  encouraging  themselves  with  the  hope  that  from 
their   hearts    also    all    doubts    will  one   day   for    ever 


152  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


vanish.  Certain  it  is  that  Christ's  life  can  only  be 
given  to  those  who  are  willing  to  receive  it — certain 
it  is  that  only  those  who  seek  to  do  His  work  seek 
to  be  sustained  by  His  life.  If  we  are  not  striving 
to  attain  those  ends  which  He  gave  His  life  to  accom- 
plish, we  cannot  be  surprised  if  we  are  not  sensible  of 
receiving  His  aid.  If  we  aim  at  worldly  ends,  we  shall 
need  no  other  energy  than  what  the  world  supplies  ; 
but  if  we  throw  ourselves  heartily  into  the  Christian 
order  of  things  and  manner  of  life,  we  shall  at  once 
be  sensible  of  our  need  of  help,  and  shall  know  whether 
we  receive  it  or  not. 

Christ's  promise  is  explicit — a  promise  given  as  the 
stay  of  His  friends  in  their  bitterest  need  :  "  He  that 
hath  My  commandments,  and  keepeth  them,  he  it  is 
that  loveth  Me  :  and  he  that  loveth  Me  shall  be  loved 
of  My  Father,  and  I  will  love  Him,  and  will  manifest 
Myself  to  him."  It  will  still  be  a  spiritual  manifesta- 
tion which  can  be  perceived  only  by  those  whose 
spirits  are  exercised  to  discern  such  things ;  but  it 
will  be  absolutely  satisfying.  We  shall  find  one  day 
that  Christ's  work  has  been  successful,  that  He  has 
brought  men  and  God  into  a  perfect  harmony.  "  That 
day"  shall  arrive  for  us  also,  when  we  shall  find  that 
Christ  has  actually  accomplished  what  He  undertook, 
and  has  set  our  life  and  ourselves  on  an  enduring 
foundation — has  given  us  eternal  life  in  God,  a  life  of 
perfect  joy.  Things  are  under  God's  guidance  pro- 
gressive, and  Christ  is  the  great  means  He  uses  for 
the  progress  of  all  that  concerns  ourselves.  And 
what  Christ  has  done  is  not  to  be  fruitless  or  only 
half  effective  ;  He  will  see  of  the  travail  of  His  soul 
and  be  satisfied — satisfied  because  in  us  the  utmost 
of-  happiness    and    the   utmost    of    good    have    been 


xiv.8-2i.]         THE  FATHER  SEEN  IN  CHRIST.  153 

attained,  because  greater  and  richer  things  than  man 
Kas  conceived  have  been  made  ours. 

These  utterances  are  fitted  to  dispel  a  form  of  un- 
belief which  seriously  hinders  many  sincere  inquirers. 
It  arises  from  the  difficulty  of  believing  in  Christ  as 
now  alive  and  able  to  afford  spiritual  assistance.  Many 
persons  who  enthusiastically  admit  the  perfectness  of 
Christ's  character  and  of  the  morality  He  taught,  and 
who  desire  above  all  else  to  make  that  morality  their 
own,  are  yet  unable  to  believe  that  He  can  give  them 
any  real  and  present  assistance  in  their  efforts  after 
holiness.  A  teacher  is  a  very  different  thing  from  a 
Saviour.  They  are  satisfied  with  Christ's  teaching ; 
but  they  need  more  than  teaching — they  need  not  only 
to  see  the  road,^  but  to  be  enabled  to  follow  it.  Unless 
a  man  can  find  some  real  connection  between  himself 
and  God,  unless  he  can  rely  upon  receiving  inward 
support  from  God,  he  feels  that  there  is  nothing  which 
can   truly  be  called  salvation. 

This  form  of  unbelief  assails  almost  every  man. 
Very  often  it  results  from  the  slow-growing  conviction 
that  the  Christian  religion  is  not  working  in  ourselves 
the  definite  results  we  expected.  When  we  read  the 
New  Testament,  we  see  the  reasonableness  of  faith,  we 
cannot  but  subscribe  to  the  theory  of  Christianity ;  but 
when  we  endeavour  to  practise  it  we  fail.  We  have 
tried  it,  and  it  does  not  seem  to  work.  At  first 
we  think  this  is  something  peculiar  to  ourselves,  and 
that  through  some  personal  carelessness  or  mistake 
we  have  failed  to  receive  all  the  benefit  which  others 
receive.  But  as  time  goes  on  the  suspicion  strengthens 
in  some  minds  that  faith  is  a  delusion  :  prayer  seems 
to  be  unanswered ;  effort  seems  to  be  unacknowledged. 
The  power   of  an  almighty   spirit    within   the   human 


154  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

spirit  cannot  be  traced.  Perhaps  this  suspicion,  more 
than  all  other  causes  put  together,  produces  undecided, 
heartless  Christians. 

What,  then,  is  to  be  said  in  view  of  such  doubts  ? 
Perhaps  it  may  help  us  past  them  if  we  consider  that 
spiritual  things  are  spiritually  discerned,  and  that  the 
one  proof  of  His  ascension  to  God's  right  hand  which 
Christ  Himself  promised  was  the  bestowal  of  His 
Spirit.  If  we  find  that,  however  slowly,  we  are  coming 
into  a  truer  harmony  with  God  ;  if  we  find  that  we 
can  more  cordially  approve  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  and 
give  to  that  Spirit  a  more  real  place  in  our  life ;  if  we 
are  finding  that  we  can  be  satisfied  with  very  little 
in  the  way  of  selfish  and  worldly  advancement,  and 
that  it  is  a  greater  satisfaction  to  us  to  do  good  than 
to  get  good  ;  if  we  find  ourselves  in  any  degree  more 
patient,  more  temperate,  more  humble, — then  Christ  is 
manifesting  in  us  His  present  life  in  the  only  way  in 
which  He  promised  to  do  so.  Even  if  we  have  more 
knowledge,  more  perception  of  what  moral  greatness 
is,  if  we  see  through  the  superficial  formalisms  which 
once  passed  for  religion  with  us,  this  is  a  step  in  the 
right  direction,  and  if  wisely  used  may  be  the  founda- 
tion of  a  superstructure  of  intelligent  service  and  real 
fellowship  with  God.  Every  discovery  and  abandon- 
ment of  error,  every  unmasking  of  delusion,  every 
attainment  of  truth,  is  a  step  nearer  to  permanent 
reality,  and  is  a  true  spiritual  gain ;  and  if  in  times 
past  we  have  had  little  experience  of  spiritual  joy  and 
confidence,  if  our  thoughts  have  been  sceptical  and 
questioning  and  perplexed,  all  this  may  be  the  needful 
preliminary  to  a  more  independent  and  assured  and 
truer  faith,  and  may  be  the  very  best  proof  that  Christ 
is  guiding  our  mind  and  attending  to  our  prayers.     It 


xiv.8-2i.]        THE  FATHER  SEEN  IN  CHRIST.  155 

is  for  "  the  world "  to  refuse  to  believe  in  the  Spirit, 
because  "  it  beholdeth  Him  not,  neither  knoweth 
Him." 

It  may  also  be  said  that  to  think  of  Christ  as  a  good 
man  who  has  passed  away  like  other  good  men,  leaving 
an  influence  and  no  more  behind  Him,  to  think  of 
Him  as  lying  still  in  His  tomb  outside  Jerusalem,  is 
to  reverse  not  only  the  belief  of  those  who  knew 
Christ  best,  but  the  belief  of  godly  men  in  all  ages. 
For  in  all  ages  both  before  and  after  Christ  it  has  been 
the  clear  conviction  of  devout  souls  that  God  sought 
them  much  more  ardently  and  persistently  than  they 
sought  God.  The  truth  which  shines  most  con- 
spicuously in  the  experience  of  all  the  saved  is  that 
they  were  saved  by  God  and  not  by  themselves.  If 
human  experience  is  to  be  trusted  at  all,  if  it  in  any 
case  reflects  the  substantial  verities  of  the  spiritual 
world,  then  we  may  hold  it  as  proved  in  the  uniform 
experience  of  men  that  God  somehow  communicated 
to  them  a  living  energy,  and  not  only  taught  them  what 
to  do,  but  gave  them  strength  to  do  it.  If  under  the 
Christian  dispensation  we  are  left  to  make  the  best  we 
can  for  ourselves  of  the  truth  taught  by  Christ  and  of 
the  example  He  set  us  in  His  life  and  death,  then  the 
Christian  dispensation,  so  far  from  being  an  advance 
on  all  that  went  before,  fails  to  supply  us  with  that 
very  thing  which  is  sought  through  all  religions — actual 
access  to  a  living  source  of  spiritual  strength.  I 
believe  that  the  resurrection  of  Christ  is  established 
by  stronger  evidence  than  exists  for  any  other  his- 
torical fact ;  but  apart  altogether  from  the  historical 
evidence,  the  entire  experience  of  God's  people  goes 
to  show  that  Christ,  as  the  mediator  between  God  and 
man,  as  the  representative  of  God  and  the  channel  of 


156  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

His  influence  upon  us,  must  be  now  alive,  and  must  be 
in  a  position  to  exert  a  personal  care  and  a  personal 
influence,  and  to  yield  a  present  and  inward  assistance. 
Were  it  otherwise,  we  should  be  left  without  a  Saviour 
to  struggle  against  the  enemies  of  the  soul  in  our 
own  strength,  and  this  would  be  a  complete  reversal 
of  the  experience  of  all  those  who  in  past  ages  have 
been  engaged  in  the  same  strife  and  have  been 
victorious. 


xr. 

The  bequest  of  peace. 


157 


"Judas  (not  Iscaiiot)  saith  unto  Him,  Lord,  what  is  come  to  pass 
that  Thou  wilt  manifest  Thyself  unto  us,  and  not  unto  the  world? 
Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  him,  If  a  man  love  Me,  he  will  keep  My 
word  :  and  My  Father  will  love  him,  and  We  will  come  unto  him,  and 
make  our  abode  with  him.  He  that  loveth  Me  not  keepeth  not  My 
words  :  and  the  word  which  ye  hear  is  not  Mine,  but  the  Father's  who 
sent  Me.  These  things  have  I  spoken  unto  you,  while  yet  abiding  with 
you.  But  the  Comforter,  even  the  Holy  Spirit,  whom  the  Father  will 
send  in  My  name,  He  shall  teach  you  all  things,  and  bring  to  your 
remembrance  all  that  I  said  unto  you.  Peace  I  leave  with  you;  My 
peace  I  give  unto  you  :  not  as  the  world  giveth,  give  lunto  you.  Let 
not  your  heart  be  troubled,  neither  let  it  be  fearful.  Ye  heard  how  I 
said  to  you,  .1  go  away,  and  I  come  unto  you.  If  ye  loved  Me,  ye 
would  have  rejoiced,  because  I  go  unto  the  Father :  for  the  Father  is 
greater  than  I.  And  now  I  have  told  you  before  it  come  to  pass,  that, 
when  it  is  come  to  pass,  ye  may  believe.  I  will  no  more  speak  much 
with  you,  for  the  prince  of  the  world  cometh  :  and  he  hath  nothing  in 
Me ;  but  that  the  world  may  know  that  I  love  the  Father,  and  as  the 
Father  gave  Me  commandment,  even  so  I  do.  Arise,  let  us  go  hence." 
— John  xiv.  22-31. 


158 


XI. 

THE  BEQUEST  OF  PEACE. 

THE  encouraging  assurances  of  our  Lord  are 
interrupted  by  Judas  Thaddeus.  As  Peter, 
Thomas,  and  Philip  had  availed  themselves  of  their 
Master's  readiness  to  solve  their  difficulties,  so  now 
Judas  utters  his  perplexity.  He  perceives  that  the 
manifestation  of  which  Jesus  has  spoken  is  not  public 
and  general,  but  special  and  private ;  and  he  says, 
"Lord,  what  has  happened,  that  Thou  art  to  manifest 
Thyself  to  us,  and  not  to  the  world  ?  "  It  would  seem 
as  if  Judas  had  been  greatly  impressed  by  the  public 
demonstration  in  favour  of  Jesus  a  day  or  two  pre- 
viously, and  supposed  that  something  must  have 
occurred  to  cause  I  lim  now  to  wish  to  manifest  Himself 
only  to  a  select  few. 

Apparently  Judas'  construction  of  the  future  was 
still  entangled  with  the  ordinary  Messianic  expecta- 
tion. He  thought  Jesus,  although  departing  for  a 
little,  would  return  speedily  in  outward  Messianic 
glory,  and  would  triumphantly  enter  Jerusalem  and 
establish  Himself  there.  But  how  this  could  be  done 
privately  he  could  not  understand.  And  if  Jesus  had 
entirely  altered  His  plan,  and  did  not  mean  immediately 
to  claim  Messianic  supremacy,  but  only  to  manifest 
Himself  to  a  few,  was  this  possible  ? 

159 


i6o  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


By  His  reply  our  Lord  shows  for  the  hundredth 
time  that  outward  proclamation  and  external  acknow- 
ledgment were  not  in  His  thoughts.  It  is  to  the 
individual  and  in  response  to  individual  love  He  will 
manifest  Himself.  It  is  therefore  a  spiritual  manifes- 
tation He  has  in  view.  Moreover,  it  was  not  to  a 
specially  privileged  few,  whose  number  was  already 
complete,  that  He  would  manifest  Himself.  Judas 
supposed  that  to  him  and  his  fellow-Apostles,  "  us," 
Jesus  would  manifest  Himself,  and  over  against  this 
select  company  he  set  "  the  world."  But  this  mechani- 
cal line  of  demarcation  our  Lord  obliterates  in  His 
reply,  "  U  any  man  loveth  Me, .  .  .  We  will  come  to  him." 
He  enounces  the  great  spiritual  law  that  they  who  seek 
to  have  Christ's  presence  manifested  to  them  must  love 
and  obey  Him.  He  that  longs  for  more  satisfying 
knowledge  of  spiritual  realities,  he  that  thirsts  for 
certainty  and  to  see  God  as  if  face  to  face,  must  expect 
no  sudden,  or  magical  revelation,  but  must  be  content 
with  the  true  spiritual  education  which  proceeds  by 
loving  and  living.  To  the  disciples  the  method  might 
seem  slow — to  us  also  it  often  seems  slow ;  but  it  is  the 
method  which  nature  requires.  Our  knowledge  of  God, 
our  belief  that  in  Christ  we  have  a  hold  of  ultimate 
truth  and  are  living  among  eternal  verities,  grow  with 
our  love  and  service  of  Christ.  It  may  take  us  a  life- 
time— it  will  take  us  a  lifetime — to  learn  to  love  Him 
as  we  ought,  but  others  have  learned  and  we  also  may 
learn,  and  there  is  no  possible  experience  so  precious 
to  us. 

It  is,  then,  to  those  who  serve  Him  that  Christ 
manifests  Himself,  and  manifests  Himself  in  an  abiding, 
spiritual,  influential  manner.  That  those  who  do  not' 
serve  Him  do  not  believe  in  His  presence  and  power 


civ.  22-31.]  THE  BEQUEST  OF  PEACE.  i6i 


is  to  be  expected.  But  were  those  who  have  served 
Him  asked  if  they  had  become  more  convinced  of  His 
spiritual  and  effectual  presence,  their  voice  would  be 
that  this  promise  had  been  fulfilled.  And  this  is  the 
very  citadel  of  the  religion  of  Christ.  If  Christ  does 
not  now  abide  with  and  energetically  aid  those  who 
serve  Him,  then  their  faith  is  vain.  If  His  spiritual 
presence  with  them  is  not  manifested  in  spiritual  results, 
if  they  have  no  evidence  that  He  is  personally  and 
activ^ely  employed  in  and  with  them,  their  faith  is  vain. 
To  believe  in  a  Christ  long  since  removed  from  earth 
and  whose  present  life  cannot  now  influence  or  touch 
mankind  is  not  the  faith  which  Christ  Himself  invites. 
And  if  His  promise  to  abide  with  those  who  love  and 
serve  Him  is  not  actually  performed,  Christendom  has 
been  produced  hy  a  mistake  and  has  lived  on  a  delusion. 
At  this  point  (ver.  25)  Jesus  pauses ;  and  feeling  how 
little  He  had  time  to  say  of  what  was  needful,  and  how 
much  better  they  would  understand  their  relation  to 
Him  after  He  had  finally  passed  from  their  bodily 
sight,  He  says  :  "  These  things  I  have  spoken  to  you, 
while  yet  I  remain  with  you ;  but  the  Paraclete,  the 
Holy  Spirit,  which  the  Father  will  send  in  My  name, 
He  will  teach  you  all  things,  and  will  remind  you  of  all 
that  I  have  said  to  you."  Jesus  cannot  tell  them  all 
He  would  wish  them  to  know ;  but  the  same  Helper 
whom  He  has  already  promised  will  especially  help 
them  by  giving  them  understanding  of  what  has  already 
been  told  them,  and  by  leading  them  into  further  know- 
ledge. He  is  to  come  "in  the  name  "  of  Jesus — that  is 
to  say,  as  His  representative — and  to  .carry  on  His  work 
in  the  world. ^ 

'  "In  this  designation  of  the  teaching  Spirit  as  holy,  there  lie  lessons 
for  two  classes  of  people.     All  fanatical  professions  of  possessing  Divine 
VOL.    II.  II 


i62  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

Here,  then,  the  Lord  predicts  that  one  day  His 
disciples  will  know  more  than  He  has  taught  them. 
They  were  to  advance  in  knowledge  beyond  the  point 
to  which  He  had  brought  them.  His  teaching  would 
necessarily  be  the  foundation  of  all  future  attainment, 
and  whatever  would  not  square  with  that  they  must 
necessarily  reject ;  but  they  were  to  add  much  to  the 
foundation  He  had  laid.  We  cannot  therefore  expect 
to  find  in  the  teaching  of  Jesus  all  that  His  followers 
ought  to  know  regarding  Himself  and  His  connection 
with  them.  All  that  is  absolutely  necessary  we  shall 
find  there ;  but  if  we  wish  to  know  all  that  He  would 
have  us  know,  we  must  look  beyond.  The  teaching 
which  we  receive  from  the  Apostles  is  the  requisite 
and  promised  complement  of  the  teaching  which  Christ 
Himself  delivered.  He  being  the  subject  taught  as 
much  as  the  teacher,  and  His  whole  experience  as 
living,  dying,  rising,  and  ascending,  constituting  the 
facts  which-  Christian  teaching  was  to  explain,  it  was 
impossible  that  He  Himself  should  be  the  final  teacher. 
He  could  not  at  once  be  text  and  exposition.  He 
lived  among  men,  and  by  His  teaching  shed  much  light 
on  the  significance  of  His  life ;  He  died,  and  was  not 
altogether  silent  regarding  the  meaning  of  His  death, 
but  it  was  enough  that  He  furnished  matter  for  His 
Apostles  to  explain,  and  confined  Himself  to  sketching 
the  mere  outline  of  Christian  truth. 

Again  and  again  throughout  this  last  conversation 


illumination,  which  are  not  warranted  and  sealed  by  purity  of  life,  are 
lies  or  self-delusion.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  cold-blooded  intellec- 
tualism  will  never  force  the  locks  of  the  palace  of  Divine  truth ;  but 
they  that  come  there  must  have  clean  hands  and  a  pure  heart;  and  only 
those  who  have  the  love  and  the  longing  for  goodness  will  be  wise 
scholars  in  Christ's  school." — Maclaren. 


xiv.22-3i.J  THE  BEQUEST  OF  PEACE.  163 

Jesus  tries  to  break  off,  but  finds  it  impossible.  Here 
(ver.  27),  when  He  has  assured  them  that,  although  He 
Himself  leaves  them  in  ignorance  of  many  things,  the 
Spirit  will  lead  them  into  all  truth,  He  proceeds  to 
make  His  parting  bequest.  He  would  fain  leave  them 
what  will  enable  them  to  be  free  from  care  and  distress  ; 
but  He  has  none  of  those  worldly  possessions  which 
men  usually  lay  up  for  their  children  and  those  de- 
pendent on  them.  House,  lands,  clothes,  money,  He 
had  none.  He  could  not  even  secure  for  those  who 
were  to  carry  on  His  work  an  exemption  from  persecu- 
tion which  He  Himself  had  not  enjoyed.  He  did  not 
leave  them,  as  some  initiators  have  done,  stable  though 
new  institutions,  an  empire  of  recent  origin  but  already 
firmly  established,  "  Not  as  the  world  giveth,  give  I 
unto  you." 

But  He  does  give  them  that  which  all  other  bequests 
aim  at  producing :  "  Peace  I  leave  with  you."  Men 
may  differ  as  to  the  best  means  of  attaining  peace,  or 
even  as  to  the  kind  of  peace  that  is  desirable,  but 
all  agree  in  seeking  an  untroubled  state.  We  seek  a 
condition  in  which  we  shall  have  no  unsatisfied  desires 
gnawing  at  our  heart  and  making  peace  impossible, 
no  stings  of  conscience,  dipped  in  the  poison  of  past 
wrong-doing,  torturing  us  hour  by  hour,  no  foreboding 
anxiety  darkening  and  disturbing  a  present  which 
might  otherwise  be  peaceful.  The  comprehensive 
nature  of  this  possession  is  shown  by  the  fact  that 
peace  can  be  produced  only  by  the  contribution  of  past, 
present,  and  future.  As  health  implies  that  all  the 
laws  which  regulate  bodily  life  are  being  observed,  and 
as  it  is  disturbed  by  the  infringement  of  any  one  of 
these,  so  peace  of  mind  implies  that  in  the  spiritual 
life  all   is  as  it  should  be.     Introduce  remorse  or  an 


1 64  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

evil  conscience,  and  you  destroy  peace;  introduce  fear 
or  anxiety,  and  peace  is  impossible.  Introduce  any- 
thing discordant,  ambition  alongside  of  indolence,  a 
sensitive  conscience  alongside  of  strong  passions,  and 
peace  takes  flight.  He,  therefore,  who  promises  to  give 
peace  promises  to  give  unassailable  security,  inward 
integrity  and  perfectness,  all  which  goes  to  make  up 
that  perfect  condition  in  which  we  shall  be  for  ever 
content  to  abide. 

Jesus  further  defines  the  peace  which  He  was  leaving 
to  the  disciples  as  that  peace  which  He  had  Himself 
enjoyed:  ^^ My  peace  I  give  unto  you," — as  one  hands 
over  a  possession  he  has  himself  tested,  the  shield  or 
helmet  that  has  served  him  in  battle.  "  That  which 
has  protected  Me  in  a  thousand  fights  I  make  over  to 
you."  The  peace  which  Christ  desires  His  disciples 
to  enjoy  is  that  which  characterised  Himself;  the  same 
serenity  in  danger,  the  same  equanimity  in  troublous 
circumstances,  the  same  freedom  from  anxiety  about 
results,  the  same  speedy  recovery  of  composure  after 
anything  which  for  a  moment  ruffled  the  calm  surface 
of  His  demeanour.  This  is  what  He  makes  over  to 
His  people ;  this  is  what  He  makes  possible  to  all 
who  serve  Him. 

There  is  nothing  which  more  markedly  distinguishes 
Jesus  and  proves  His  superiority  than  His  calm  peace 
in  all  circumstances.  He  was  poor,  and  might  have 
resented  the  incapacitating  straitness  of  poverty.  He 
was  driven  from  place  to  place.  His  purpose  and  motives 
were  suspected.  His  action  and  teaching  resisted,  the 
good  He  strove  to  do  continually  marred ;  but  He 
carried  Himself  through  all  with  serenity.  It  is  said 
that  nothing  shakes  the  nerve  of  brave  men  so  much 
as  fear  of  assassination :  our  Lord  lived  among  bitterly 


xiv.  22-31.]  THE  BEQUEST  OF  PEACE.  165 

hostile  men,  and  was  again  and  again  on  the  brink 
of  being  made  away  with,  but  He  was  imperturbably 
resolute  to  do  the  work  given  Him  to  do.  Take  Him 
at  an  unguarded  moment,  tell  Him  the  boat  is  sinking 
underneath  Him,  and  you  find  the  same  undisturbed 
composure.  He  Avas  never  troubled  at  the  results  of 
His  work  or  about  His  own  reputation  ;  when  He  was 
reviled,  He  reviled  not  again. 

This  unruffled  serenity  was  so  obvious  a  characteristic 
of  the  demeanour  of  Jesus,  that  as  it  was  familiar  to 
His  friends,  so  it  was  perplexing  to  His  judges.  The 
Roman  governor  saw  in  His  bearing  an  equanimity  so 
different  from  the  callousness  of  the  hardened  criminal 
and  from  the  agitation  of  the  self-condemned,  that  he 
could  not  help  exclaiming  in  astonishment,  "  Dost  Thou 
not  know  that  I  have  power  over  Thee  ?  "  Therefore 
without  egotism  our  Lord  could  speak  of  "  My  peace." 
The  world  had  come  to  Him  in  various  shapes,  and 
He  had  conquered  it.  No  allurement  of  pleasure,  no 
opening  to  ambition  had  distracted  Him  and  broken 
up  His  serene  contentment ;  no  danger  had  filled  His 
spirit  with  anxiety  and  fear.  On  one  occasion  only 
could  He  say,  "  Now  is  My  soul  troubled."  Out  of  all 
that  life  had  presented  to  Him  He  had  wrought  out 
for  Himself  and  for  us  peace. 

By  calling  it  specifically  "  My  peace  "  our  Lord  dis- 
tinguishes it  from  the  peace  which  men  ordinarily 
pursue.  Some  seek  it  by  accommodating  themselves  to 
the  world,  by  fixing  for  themselves  a  low  standard  and 
disbelieving  in  the  possibility  of  living  up  to  any  high 
standard  in  this  world.  Some  seek  peace  by  giving  the 
fullest  possible  gratification  to  all  their  desires  ;  they 
seek  peace  in  external  things — comfort,  ease,  plenty, 
pleasant  connections.     Some  stifle  anxiety  about  worldly 


i66  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

things  by  impressing  on  themselves  that  fretting  does 
no  good,  and  that  what  cannot  be  cured  must  be 
endured  ;  and  any  anxiety  that  might  arise  about  their 
spiritual  condition  they  stifle  by  the  imagination  that 
God  is  too  great  or  too  good  to  deal  strictly  with  their 
shortcomings.  Such  kinds  of  peace,  our  Lord  implies, 
are  delusive.  It  is  not  outward  things  which  can  give 
peace  of  mind,  no  more  than  it  is  a  soft  couch  which 
can  give  rest  to  a  fevered  body.  Restfulness  must 
be  produced  from  within. 

There  are,  in  fact,  two  roads  to  peace — we  may 
conquer  or  we  may  be  conquered.  A  country  may 
always  enjoy  peace,  if  it  is  prepared  always  to  submit 
to  indignities,  to  accommodate  itself  to  the  demands 
of  stronger  parties,  and  absolutely  to  dismiss  from  its 
mind  all  ideas  of  honour  or  self-respect.  This  mode  of 
obtaining  peace  has  the  advantages  of  easy  and  speedy 
attainment— advantages  to  which  every  man  naturally 
attaches  too  high  a  value.  For  in  the  individual  life 
we  are  daily  choosing  either  the  one  peace  or  the 
other ;  the  unrighteous  desires  which  distract  us  we 
are  either  conquering  or  being  conquered  by.  We  are 
either  accepting  the  cheap  peace  that  lies  on  this  side 
of  conflict,  or  we  are  attaining  or  striving  towards  the 
peace  that  lies  on  the  other  side  of  conflict.  But  the 
peace  we  gain  by  submission  is  both  short-lived  and 
delusive.  It  is  short-lived,  for  a  gratified  desire  is  like 
a  relieved  beggar,  who  will  quickly  find  his  way  back 
to  you  with  his  request  rather  enlarged  than  curtailed ; 
and  it  is  delusive,  because  it  is  a  peace  which  is  the 
beginning  of  bondage  of  the  worst  kind.  Any  peace 
that  is  worth  the  having  or  worth  the  speaking  about 
lies  beyond,  at  the  other  side  of  conflict.  We  cannot 
long  veil   this    from    ourselves :  we    may   decline   the 


xiv.  22-31.]  THE  BEQUEST  OF  PEACE.  167 

conflict  and  put  off  the  evil  day ;  but  still  we  are  con- 
scious that  we  have  not  the  peace  our  natures  crave 
until  we  subdue  the  evil  that  is  in  us.  We  look  and 
look  for  peace  to  distil  upon  us  from  without,  to  rise 
and  shine  upon  us  as  to-morrow's  sun,  without  effort 
of  our  own,  and  yet  we  know  that  such  expectation  is 
the  merest  delusion,  and  that  peace  must  begin  within, 
must  be  found  in  ourselves  and  not  in  our  circum- 
stances. We  know  that  until  our  truest  purposes  are 
in  thorough  harmony  with  our  conscientious  convictions 
we  have  no  right  to  peace.  We  know  that  we  can 
have  no  deep  and  lasting  peace  until  v/e  are  satisfied 
with  our  own  inward  state,  or  are  at  least  definitely  on 
the  road  to  satisfaction. 

Again,  the  peace  of  which  Christ  here  speaks  may 
be  called  His,  as  being  wrought  out  by  Him,  and  as 
being  only  attainable  by  others  through  His  commu- 
nication of  it  to  them.  We  do  at  first  inquire  with 
surprise  how  it  is  possible  that  any  one  can  bequeath 
to  us  his  own  moral  qualities.  This,  in  fact,  is  what 
one  often  wishes  were  possible — that  the  father  who 
by  long  discipline,  by  many  painful  experiences,  has 
at  last  become  meek  and  wise,  could  transmit  these 
qualities  to  his  son  who  has  life  all  before  him.  As 
we  read  the  notices  of  those  who  pass  away  from 
among  us,  it  is  the  loss  of  so  much  moral  force  we 
mourn ;  it  may  be,  for  all  we  know,  as  indispensable 
elsewhere,  but  nevertheless  it  is  our  loss,  a  loss  for 
which  no  work  done  by  the  man,  nor  any  works  left 
behind  him,  compensate  ;  for  the  man  is  always,  or 
generally,  greater  than  his  works,  and  what  he  has 
done  only  shows  us  the  power  and  possibilities  that 
are  in  him.  Each  generation  needs  to  raise  its  own 
good  men,  not  independent,  certainly,  of  the  past,  but 


l68  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

not  altogether  inheriting  what  past  generations  have 
done ;  just  as  each  new  year  must  raise  its  own  crops, 
and  only  gets  the  benefit  of  past  toil  in  the  shape 
of  improved  land,  good  seed,  better  implements  and 
methods  of  agriculture.  Still,  there  is  a  transmission 
from  father  to  son  of  moral  qualities.  What  the 
father  has  painfully  acquired  may  be  found  in  the  son 
by  inheritance.  And  this  is  analogous  to  the  trans- 
fusion of  moral  qualities  from  Christ  to  His  people. 
For  it  is  true  of  all  the  graces  of  the  Christian,  that 
they  are  first  acquired  by  Christ,  and  only  from  Him 
derived  to  the  Christian.  It  is  of  His  fulness  we  all 
receive,  and  grace  for  grace.  He  is  the  Light  at  whom 
we  must  all  kindle,  the  Source  from  whom  all  flows. 

How,  then,  does  Christ  communicate  to  us  His  peace 
or  any  of  His  own  qualities — qualities  in  some  instances 
acquired  by  personal  experience  and  personal  effort  ? 
He  gives  us  peace,  first,  by  reconciling  us  to  God  by 
removing  the  burden  of  our  past  guilt  and  giving 
us  access  to  God's  favour.  His  work  sheds  quite  a 
new  light  upon  God  ;  reveals  the  fatherly  love  of  God 
following  us  into  our  wandering  and  misery,  and  claim- 
ing us  in  our  worst  estate  as  His,  acknowledging  us 
and  bidding  us  hope.  Through  Him  we  are  brought 
back  to  the  Father.  He  comes  with  this  message  from 
God,  that  He  loves  us.  Am  I,  then,  troubled  about  the 
past,  about  what  I  have  done  ?  As  life  goes  on,  do  I 
only  see  more  and  more  clearly  how  thoroughly  I  have 
been  a  wrong-doer  ?  Does  the  present,  as  I  live  through 
it,  only  shed  a  brighter  and  brighter  light  on  the  evil 
of  the  past  ?  Do  I  fear  the  future  as  that  which  can 
only  more  and  more  painfully  evolve  the  consequences 
of  my  past, wrong-doing  ?  Am  I  gradually  awaking  to 
the  full  and  awful  import   of  being  a  sinner  ?     After 


xiv.  22-31.]  THE  BEQUEST  OF  PEACE.  169 

many  years  of  a  Christian  profession,  am  I  coming  at 
last  to  see  that  above  all  else  my  life  has  been  a  life 
of  sin,  of  shortcoming  or  evasion  of  duty,  of  deep  con- 
sideration for  my  own  pleasure  or  my  own  purpose, 
and  utter  or  comparative  regardlessness  of  God  ?  Are 
the  slowly  evolving  circumstances  of  my  life  at  length 
effecting  what  no  preaching  has  ever  effected  ?  are  they 
making  me  understand  that  sin  is  the  real  evil,  and  that 
I  am  beset  by  it  and  my  destiny  entangled  and  ruled  by 
it?  To  me,  then,  what  offer  could  be  more  appropriate 
than  the  offer  of  peace  ?  From  all  fear  of  God  and  of 
myself  I  am  called  to  peace  in  Christ. 

Reconcilement  with  God  is  the  foundation,  manifestly 
and  of  course,  of  all  peace ;  and  this  we  have  as  Christ's 
direct  gift  to  us.  But  this  fundamental  peace,  though 
it  will  eventually  pervade  the  whole  man,  does  in  point 
of  fact  only  slowly  develop  into  a  peace  such  as  our 
Lord  Himself  possessed.  The  peace  which  our  Lord 
spoke  of  to  His  disciples,  peace  amidst  all  the  ills  of 
life,  can  only  be  attained  by  a  real  following  of  Christ, 
and  a  hearty  and  profound  acceptance  of  His  principles 
and  spirit.  And  it  is  not  the  less  His  gift  because  we 
have  thus  to  work  for  it,  to  alter  or  be  altered  wholly 
in  our  own  inward  being.  It  is  not  therefore  a  decep- 
tive bequest.  When  the  father  gives  his  son  a  good 
education,  he  cannot  do  so  irrespective  of  the  hard 
work  of  the  son  himself.  When  the  general  promises 
victory  to  his  men,  they  do  not  expect  to  have  it 
without  fighting.  And  our  Lord  does  not  upset  or 
supersede  the  fundamental  laws  of  our  nature  and  of 
our  spiritual  growth.  He  does  not  make  effort  of  our 
own  unnecessary ;  He  does  not  give  us  a  ready-made 
character  irrespective  of  the  laws  by  which  character 
grows,  irrespective   of  deep-seated   thirst   for   holiness 


I70  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

in  ourselves  and  long-sustained  conflict  with  outward 
obstacles  and  internal  weaknesses  and  infidelities. 

But  He  helps  us  to  peace,  not  only  though  primarily 
by  bringing  us  back  to  God's  favour,  but  also  by  show- 
ing us  in  His  own  person  and  hfe  how  peace  is  attained 
and  preserved,  and  by  communicating  to  us  His  Spirit 
to  aid  us  in  our  efforts  to  attain  it.  He  found  out  more 
perfectly  than  any  one  else  the  secret  of  peace ;  and 
we  are  stirred  by  His  example  and  success,  not  only 
as  we  are  stirred  by  the  example  of  any  dead  saint  or 
sage  with  whom  we  have  no  present  personal  living 
fellowship,  but  as  we  are  stirred  by  the  example  of  a 
living  Father  who  is  always  with  us  to  infuse  new 
heart  into  us,  and  to  give  us  effectual  counsel  and  aid. 
While  we  put  forth  our  own  efforts  to  win  this  self- 
conquest,  and  so  school  all  within  us  as  to  enter  into 
peace,  Christ  is  with  us  securing  that  our  efforts  shall 
not  be  in.  vain,  giving  us  the  fixed  and  clear  idea  of 
peace  as  our  eternal  condition,  and  giving  us  also 
whatever  we  need  to  win  it. 

These  words  our  Lord  uttered  at  a  time  when,  if 
ever.  He  was  not  likely  to  use  words  of  course,  to 
adopt  traditional  and  misleading  phrases.  He  loved 
the  men  He  was  speaking  to,  He  knew  He  was  after 
this  to  have  few  more  opportunities  of  speaking  with 
them.  His  love  interpreted  to  Him  the  difficulties  and 
troubles  which  would  fall  upon  them,  and  this  was  the 
armour  which  He  knew  would  bear  them  scathless 
through  all.  That  His  promise  was  fulfilled  we  know. 
We  do  not  know  what  became  of  the  majority  of  the 
Apostles,  whether  they  did  much  or  little ;  but  if  we  look 
at  the  men  who  stood  out  prominently  in  the  early  history 
of  the  Church,  we  see  how  much  they  stood  in  need 
of  this  peace  and  how  truly  they  received  it.     Look  at 


xiv.  22-31.]  THE  BEQUEST  OF  PEACE.  171 

Stephen,  sinking  bruised  and  bleeding  under  the  stones 
of  a  cursing  mob,  and  say  what  characterises  him — what 
makes  his  face  shine  and  his  Hps  open  in  prayer  for 
his  murderers  ?  Look  at  Paul,  driven  out  of  one  city, 
dragged  lifeless  out  of  another,  clinging  to  a  spar  on 
a  wild  sea,  stripped  by  robbers,  arraigned  before  magis- 
trate after  magistrate — what  keeps  his  spirit  serene,  his 
purpose  unshaken  through  a  life  such  as  this  ?  What 
put  into  his  lips  these  valued  words  and  taught  him 
to  say  to  others,  "  Rejoice  evermore,  and  let  the  peace 
of  God  which  passeth  understanding  keep  your  heart 
and  mind  "  ?  It  was  the  fulfilment  of  this  promise — a 
promise  which  is  meant  for  us  as  for  them.  It  will 
be  fulfilled  in  us  as  in  these  men,  not  by  a  mere  verbal 
petition,  not  bj  a  craving  however  strong,  or  a  prayer 
however  sincere,  but  by  a  true  and  profound  acceptance 
of  Christ,  by  a  conscientious  following  of  Him  as  our 
real  leader,  as  that  One  from  whom  we  take  our  ideas 
of  life,  of  what  is  worthy  and  what  is  unworthy. 


XII. 

the'  VINE  AND   THE  BRANCHES. 


»73 


"Arise,  let  us  go  hence.  I  am  the  true  Vine,  and  My  Father  is  the 
Husbandman.  Every  branch  in  Me  that  beareth  not  fruit,  He  taketh  it 
away  :  and  every  brancli  that  beareth  fruit,  He  cleanseth  it,  tliat  it 
may  bear  more  fruit.  Already  ye  are  clean  because  of  the  word  wliich 
I  have  spol<en  unto  you.  Abide  in  Me,  and  I  in  you.  As  the  branch 
cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself,  except  it  abide  in  the  vine ;  so  neither  can 
ye,  except  ye  abide  in  Me.  I  am  the  Vine,  ye  are  the  branches :  He 
that  abideth  in  Me,  and  I  in  him,  the  same  beareth  much  fruit :  for 
apart  from  Me  ye  can  do  nothing.  If  a  man  abide  not  in  Me,  he  is 
cast  forth  as  a  branch,  and  is  withered  ;  and  they  gather  them,  and 
cast  them  into  the  fire,  and  they  are  burned.  If  ye  abide  in  Me,  and 
My  words  abide  in  you,  ask  whatsoever  ye  will,  and  it  shall  be  done 
unto  you.  Herein  is  My  Father  glorified,  that  ye  bear  much  fruit  ;  and 
so  shall  ye  be  My  disciples.  Even  as  the  Father  hath  loved  Me,  I  also 
have  loved  you;  abide  ye  in  My  love.  If  ye  keep  My  commandments, 
ye  shall  abide  in  My  love .;  even  as  I  have  kept  My  Father's  command- 
ments, and  abide  in  His  love.  These  things  have  I  spoken  unto  you, 
that  My  joy  may  be  in  you,  and  that  your  joy  may  be  fulfilled.  This 
is  My  commandment,  that  ye  love  one  another,  even  as  I  have  loved 
you." — ^JoHN  xiv.  31 — XV.  12. 


174 


XII. 

THE   VINE  AND  THE  BRANCHES. 

LIKE  a  friend  who  cannot  tear  himself  away  and 
has  many  more  last  words  after  he  has  bid  us 
good-bye,  Jesus  continues  speaking  to  the  disciples 
while  they  are  selecting  and  putting  on  their  sandals 
and  girding  themselves  to  face  the  chill  night  air.  He 
had  to  all  appearance  said  all  He  meant  to  say.  He 
had  indeed  closed  the  conversation  with  the  melancholy 
words,  "  Henceforth  I  will  not  talk  much  with  you." 
He  had  given  the  signal  for  breaking  up  the  feast  and 
leaving  the  house,  rising  from  table  Himself  and  sum- 
moning the  rest  to  do  the  same.  But  as  He  saw  their 
reluctance  to  move,  and  the  alarmed  and  bewildered 
expression  that  hung  upon  their  faces.  He  could  not 
but  renew  His  efforts  to  banish  their  forebodings  and 
impart  to  them  intelligent  courage  to  face  separation 
from  Him.  All  He  had  said  about  His  spiritual  pre- 
sence with  them  had  fallen  short :  they  could  not  as 
yet  understand  it.  They  were  possessed  with  the  dread 
of  losing  Him  whose  future  was  their  future,  and  with 
the  success  of  whose  plans  all  their  hopes  were  bound 
up.  The  prospect  of  losing  Him  was  too  dreadful ;  and 
though  He  had  assured  them  He  would  still  be  with 
them,  there  was  an  appearance  of  mystery  and  unreality 
about  that  presence  which  prevented  them  from  trusting 

175 


176  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

it.  They  knew  they  could  effect  nothing  if  He  left 
them  :  their  work  was  done,  their  hopes  blighted. 

As  Jesus,  then,  rises,  and  as  they  all  fondly  cluster 
round  Him,  and  as  He  recognises  once  more  how  much 
He  is  to  these  men,  there  occurs  to  His  mind  an 
allegory  which  may  help  the  disciples  to  understand 
better  the  connection  they  have  with  Him,  and  how  it 
is  still  to  be  maintained.  It  has  been  supposed  that 
this  allegory  was  suggested  to  Him  by  some  vine  trail- 
ing round  the  doorway  or  by  some  other  visible  object, 
but  such  outward  suggestion  is  needless.  Recognising 
their  fears  and  difficulties  and  dependence  on  Him  as 
they  hung  upon  Him  for  the  last  time,  what  more 
natural  than  that  He  should  meet  their  dependence  and 
remove  their  fears  of  real  separation  by  saying,  "  I  am 
the  Vine,  ye  the  branches  "  ?  What  more  natural,  when 
He  wished  to  set  vividly  before  them  the  importance 
of  the  work  He  was  bequeathing  to  them,  and  to  stimu- 
late them  faithfully  to  carry  on  what  He  had  begun, 
than  to  say,  "  I  am  the  Vine,  ye  the  fruit-bearing 
branches :  abide  in   Me,  and   I  in  you "  ? 

Doubtless  our  Lord's  introduction  of  the  word 
"  true  "  or  "  real  " — "  I  am  the  true  Vine  " — implies  a 
comparison  with  other  vines,  but  not  necessarily  with 
any  vines  then  outwardly  visible.  Much  more  likely 
is  it  that  as  He  saw  the  dependence  of  His  disciples 
upon  Him,  He  saw  new  meaning  in  the  old  and  familiar 
idea  that  Israel  was  the  vine  planted  by  God.  He 
saw  that  in  Himself^  and  His  disciples  all  that  had 
been  suggested  by  this  figure  was  in  reality  accom- 
plished.     God's   intention    in    creating   man  was   ful- 

'  That  the  vine  was  a  recognised  symbol  of  the  Messiah  is  shown  by 
Delitzsch  in  the  Expositor,  3rd  series,  vol.  iii.,  pp.  68,  69.  See  also 
his  Iris,  pp.  180-190,  E.  Tr. 


xiv.  3I-XV.  12.]     THE   VINE  AND   THE  BRANCHES.         177 

filled.  It  was  secured  by  the  life  of  Christ  and  by 
the  attachment  of  men  to  Him  that  the  purpose  of  God 
in  creation  would  bear  fruit.  That  which  amply  satis- 
fied God  was  now  in  actual  existence  in  the  person  and 
attractiveness  of  Christ.  Seizing  upon  the  figure  of 
the  vine  as  fully  expressing  this,  Christ  fixes  it  for 
ever  in  the  mind  of  His  disciples  as  the  symbol  of  His 
connection  with  them,  and  with  a  few  decisive  strokes 
He  gives  prominence  to  the  chief  characteristics  of  this 
connection.  * 

I.  The  first  idea,  then,  which  our  Lord  wished  to 
present  by  means  of  this  allegory  is,  that  He  and  His 
disciples  together  form  one  whole,  neither  being  com- 
plete without  the  other.  The  vine  can  bear  no  fruit 
if  it  has  no  branches ;  the  branches  cannot  live  apart 
from  the  vine.  Without  the  branches  the  stem  is  a 
fruitless  pole  ;  without  the  stem  the  branches  wither 
and  die.  Stem  and  branches  together  constitute  one 
fruit-bearing  tree.  I,  for  my  part,  says  Christ,  am  the 
Vine ;  ye  are  the  branches,  neither  perfect  without  the 
other,  the  two  together  forming  one  complete  tree, 
essential  to   one  another  as   stem  and   branches. 

The  significance  underlying  the  figure  is  obvious, 
and  no  more  welcome  or  animating  thought  could  have 
reached  the  heart  of  the  disciples  as  they  felt  the  first 
tremor  of  separation  from  their  Lord.  Christ,  in  His  own 
visible  person  and  by  His  own  hands  and  words,  was 
no  longer  to  extend  His  kingdom  on  earth.  He  was  to 
continue  to  fulfil  God's  purpose  among  men,  no  longer 
however  in  His  own  person,  but  through  His  disciples. 
They  were  now  to  be  His  branches,  the  medium  , 
through  which  He  could  express  all  the  life  that  was, 
in  Him,  His  love  for  man,  His  purpose  to  lift  and  save 
the  world.     Not  with  His  own  lips  was  He  any  longer 

VOL.  II,  12 


I7«  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

to  tell  men  of  holiness  and  of  God,  not  with  His  own 
hand  was  He  to  dispense  blessing  to  the  needy  ones  of 
earth,  but  His  disciples  were  now  to  be  the  sympathetic 
interpreters  of  His  goodness  and  the  unobstructed 
channels  through  which  He  might  still  pour  out  upon 
men  all  His  loving  purpose.  As  God  the  Father  is  a 
Spirit  and  needs  human  hands  to  do  actual  deeds  of 
mercy  for  Him,  as  He  does  not  Himself  in  His  own 
separate  personality  make  the  bed  of  the  sick  poor,  but 
does  it  only  through  the  intervention  of  human  charity, 
so  can  Christ  speak  no  audible  word  in  the  ear  of  the 

^  sinner,  nor  do  the  actual  work  required  for  the  help 
and  advancement  of  men.  This  He  leaves  to  His 
disciples.  His  part  being  to  give  them  love  and  perse- 
verance for  it,  to  supply  them  with  all  they  need  as 
His  branches. 

This,  then,  is  the  last  word  of  encouragement  and  of 
quickening  our  Lord  leaves  with  these  men  and  with 
us:  I  leave  you  to  do  all  for  Me;  I  entrust  you  with 
this  gravest  task  of  accomplishing  in  the  world  all  I 
have  prepared  for  by  My  life  and  death.  This  great 
end,  to  attain  which  I  thought  fit  to  leave  the  glory  I 
had  with  the  Father,  and  for  which  I  have  spent  all — 
this  I  leave  in  your  hands.  It  is  in  this  world  of  men 
the  whole  results  of  the  Incarnation  are  to  be  found, 
and  it  is  on  you  the  burden  is  laid  of  applying  to  this 
world  the  work  I  have  done.  You  live  for  Me.  But 
on  the  other  hand  I  live  for  you.  "  Because  I  live,  ye 
shall  live  also."  I  do  not  really  leave  you.  If  I  say, 
"  Abide  in  Me,"  I  none  the  less  say,  "  and  I  in  you."  It 
is  in  you  I  spend  all  the  Divine  energy  you  have  wit- 

^  nessed  in  my  life.  It  is  through  you  I  live.  I  am  the 
Vine,  the  life-giving  Stem,  sustaining  and  quickening 
you.     Ye    are    the    branches,  effecting  what  I  intend, 


xiv.  31— XV.  12.]     THE   VINE  AND   THE  BRANCHES.         179 

bearing  the  fruit  for  the  sake  of  which  I  have  been 
planted  in  the  world  by  My  Father,  the  Husbandman. 

II.  The  second  idea  is  that  this  unity  of  the  tree  is 
formed  by  unity  of  life.  It  is  a  unity  brought  about, 
not  by  mechanical  juxtaposition,  but  by  organic  relation- 
ship. "  As  the  branch  cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself,  but 
must  abide  in  the  vine,  so  neither  can  ye  except  ye 
abide  in  Me."  A  ball  of  twine  or  a  bag  of  shot  cannot 
be  called  a  whole.  If  you  cut  off  a  yard  of  the  twine, 
the  part  cut  off  has  all  the  qualities  and  properties  of 
the  remainder,  and  is  perhaps  more  serviceable  apart 
from  the  rest  than  in  connection  with  it.  A  handful  of 
shot  is  more  serviceable  for  many  purposes  than  a 
bagful,  and  the  quantity  you  take  out  of  the  bag  retains 
all  the  properties  it  had  while  in  the  bag ;  because 
there  is  no  conimon  life  in  the  twine  or  in  the  shot, 
making  all  the  particles  one  whole.  But  take  anything 
which  is  a  true  unity  or  whole — your  body,  for  example. 
Different  results  follow  here  from  separation.  Your 
eye  is  useless  taken  from  its  place  in  the  body.  You 
can  lend  a  friend  your  knife  or  your  purse,  and  it  may 
be  more  serviceable  in  his  hands  than  in  yours ;  but 
you  cannot  lend  him  your  arms  or  your  ears.  Apart 
from  yourself,  the  members  of  your  body  are  useless, 
because  here  there  is  one  common  life  forming  one 
organic  whole. 

It  is  thus  in  the  relation  of  Christ  and  His  followers. 
He  and  they  together  form  one  whole,  because  one 
common  life  unites  them.  "  As  the  branch  cannot  bear 
fruit  of  itself,  so  neither  can  ye."  Why  can  the 
branch  bear  no  fruit  except  it  abide  in  the  vine  ? 
Because  it  is  a  vital  unity  that  makes  the  tree  one. 
And  what  is  a  vital  unity  between  persons  ?  It  can  be 
nothing  else  than  a  spiritual  unity — a  unity  not  of  a 


i8o  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

bodily  kind,  but  inward  and  of  the  spirit.  In  other 
words,  it  is  a  unity  of  purpose  and  of  resources  for  attain- 
ing that  purpose.  The  branch  is  one  with  the  tree 
because  it  draws  its  Hfe  from  the  tree  and  bears  the 
fruit  proper  to  the  tree.  We  are  one  with  Christ  when 
we  adopt  His  purpose  in  the  world  as  the  real  govern- 
ing aim  of  our  hfe,  and  when  we  renew  our  strength  for 
the  fulfilment  of  that  purpose  by  fellowship  with  His 
love  for  mankind  and  His  eternal  purpose  to  bless 
men. 

We  must  be  content,  then,  to  be  branches.  We  must 
be  content  not  to  stand  isolated  and  grow  from  a  private 
root  of  our  own.  We  must  utterly  renounce  selfish- 
ness. Successful  selfishness  is  absolutely  impossible. 
The  greater  the  apparent  success  of  selfishness  is,  the 
more  gigantic  will  the  failure  one  day  appear.  An  arm 
severed  from  the  body,  a  branch  lopped  off  the  tree,  is 
the  true  symbol  of  the  selfish  man.  He  will  be  left 
behind  as  the  true  progress  of  mankind  proceeds,  with 
no  part  in  the  common  joy,  stranded  and  dying  in  cold 
isolation.  We  must  learn  that  our  true  life  can  only  be 
lived  when  we  recognise  that  we  are  parts  of  a  great 
whole,  that  we  are  here  not  to  prosecute  any  private 
interest  of  our  own  and  win  a  private  good  for  ourselves, 
but  to  forward  the  good  that  others  share  in  and  the 
cause  that  is  common. 

How  this  unity  is  formed  received  no  explanation 
on  this  occasion.  The  manner  in  which  men  become 
branches  of  the  true  Vine  was  not  touched  upon  in  the 
allegory.  Already  the  disciples  were  branches,  and  no 
explanation  was  called  for.  It  may,  however,  be  legiti- 
mate to  gather  a  hint  from  the  allegory  itself  regarding 
the  formation  of  the  living  bond  between  Christ  and 
His    people.     However    ignorant    we    may    be   of  the 


xiv.  31— XV.  12.]     THE    VINE  AND   THE  BRANCHES.         i8l 

propagation  of  fruit  trees  and  the  processes  of  grafting, 
we  can  at  any  rate  understand  that  no  mere  tying  of  a 
branch  to  a  tree,  bark  to  bark,  would  effect  anything 
save  the  withering  of  the  branch.  The  branch,  if  it  is 
to  be  fruitful,  must  form  a  solid  part  of  the  tree,  must 
be  grafted  so  as  to  become  of  one  structure  and  life 
with  the  stem.  It  must  be  cut  through,  so  as  to  lay 
bare  the  whole  interior  structure  of  it,  and  so  as  to  leave 
open  all  the  vessels  that  carry  the  sap  ;  and  a  similar 
incision  must  be  made  in  the  stock  upon  which  the 
branch  is  to  be  grafted,  so  that  the  cut  sap-vessels  of 
the  branch  may  be  in  contact  with  the  cut  sap-vessels 
of  the  stock.  Such  must  be  our  grafting  into  Christ. 
It  must  be  a  laying  bare  of  our  inmost  nature  to  His 
inmost  nature,  so  that  a  vital  connection  may  be  formed 
between  these' two.  What  we  expect  to  receive  by 
being  connected  with  Christ  is  the  very  Spirit  which 
made  Him  what  He  was.  We  expect  to  receive  into 
the  source  of  conduct  in  us  all  that  was  the  source  of 
conduct  in  Him.  We  wish  to  be  in  such  a  connection 
with  Him  that  His  principles,  sentiments,  and  aims 
shall  become  ours. 

On  His  side  Christ  has  laid  bare  His  deepest  feelings 
and  spirit.  In  His  life  and  in  His  death  He  submitted 
to  that  severest  operation  which  seemed  to  be  a  maim- 
ing of  Him,  but  which  in  point  of  fact  was  the  necessary 
preparation  for  His  receiving  fruitful  branches.  He 
did  not  hide  the  true  springs  of  His  life  under  a  hard 
and  rough  bark  ;  but  submitting  Himself  to  the  Husband- 
man's knife,  He  has  suffered  us  through  His  wounds  to 
see  the  real  motives  and  vital  spirit  of  His  nature — 
truth,  justice,  holiness,  fidelity,  love.  Whatever  in  this 
life  cut  our  Lord  to  the  quick,  whatever  tested  most 
thoroughly  the  true  spring  of  His  conduct,  only  more 


i82  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

clearly  showed  that  deepest  within  Him  and  strongest 
within  Him  lay  holy  love.  And  He  was  not  shy  of 
telling  men  His  love  for  them  :  in  the  public  death  He 
died  He  loudly  declared  it,  opening  His  nature  to  the 
gaze  of  all.  And  to  this  open  heart  He  declined  to 
receive  none  ;  as  many  as  the  Father  gave  Him  were 
welcome  ;  He  had  none  of  that  aversion  we  feel  to 
admit  all  and  sundry  into  close  relations  with  us.  He 
at  once  gives  His  heart  and  keeps  back  nothing  to 
Himself;  He  invites  us  into  the  closest  possible  con- 
nection with  Him,  with  the  intention  that  we  should 
grow  to  Him  and  for  ever  be  loved  by  Him.  Whatever 
real,  lasting,  and  influential  connection  can  be  esta- 
blished between  two  persons,  this  He  wishes  to  have 
with  us.  If  it  is  possible  for  two  persons  so  to  grow 
together  that  separation  in  spirit  is  for  ever  impossible, 
it  is  nothing  short  of  this  Christ  seeks. 

But  when  we  turn  to  the  cutting  of  the  branch,  we 
see  reluctance  and  vacillation  and  much  to  remind  us 
that,  in  the  graft  we  now  speak  of,  the  Husbandman  has 
to  deal,  not  with  passive  branches  which  cannot  shrink 
from  his  knife,  but  with  free  and  sensitive  human  beings. 
The  hand  of  the  Father  is  on  us  to  sever  us  from  the 
old  stock  and  give  us  a  place  in  Christ,  but  we  feel  it 
hard  to  be  severed  from  the  root  we  have  grown  from 
and  to  which  we  are  now  so  firmly  attached.  We 
refuse  to  see  that  the  old  tree  is  doomed  to  the  axe,  or 
after  we  have  been  inserted  into  Christ  we  loosen 
ourselves  again  and  again,  so  that  morning  by  morning 
as  the  Father  visits  His  tree  He  finds  us  dangling 
useless  with  signs  of  withering  already  upon  us.  But 
in  the  end  the  Vinedresser's  patient  skill  prevails. 
We  submit  ourselves  to  those  incisive  operations  of 
God's  providence  or  of  His  gentler  but  effective  word 


xiv.3i— XV.  12.]     THE   VINE  AND   THE  BRANCHES.         183 

which  finally  sever  us  from  what  we  once  clung  to. 
We  are  impelled  to  lay  bare  our  heart  to  Christ 
and  seek  the  deepest  and  truest  and  most  influential 
union. 

And  even  after  the  graft  has  been  achieved  the  hus- 
bandman's care  is  still  needed  that  the  branch  may 
"abide  in  the  vine,"  and  that  it  may  "bring  forth 
more  fruit."  There  are  two  risks — the  branch  may  be 
loosened,  or  it  may  run  to  wood  and  leaves.  Care  is 
taken  when  a  graft  is  made  that  its  permanent  participa- 
tion in  the  life  of  the  tree  be  secured.  The  graft  is 
not  only  tied  to  the  tree,  but  the  point  of  juncture  is 
cased  in  clay  or  pitch  or  wax,  so  as  to  exclude  air, 
water,  or  any  disturbing  influence.  Analogous  spiritual 
treatment  is  certainly  requisite  if  the  attachment  of  the 
soul  to  Christ  is  to  become  solid,  firm,  permanent.  If 
the  soul  and  Christ  are  to  be  really  one,  nothing  must 
be  allowed  to  tamper  with  the  attachment.  It  must 
be  sheltered  from  all  that  might  rudely  impinge  upon 
it  and  displace  the  disciple  from  the  attitude  towards 
Christ  he  has  assumed.  When  the  graft  and  the  stock 
have  grown  together  into  one,  then  the  point  of  attach- 
ment will  resist  any  shock ;  but,  while  the  attachment  is 
recent,  care  is  needed  that  the  juncture  be  hermetically 
secluded  from  adverse  influences. 

The  husbandman's  care  is  also  needed  that  after  the 
branch  is  grafted  it  may  bring  forth  fruit  increasingly. 
Stationariness  is  not  to  be  tolerated.  As  for  fruitless- 
ness,  that  is  out  of  the  question.  More  fruit  each 
season  is  looked  for,  and  arranged  for  by  the  vigorous 
prunings  of  the  husbandman.  The' branch  is  not  left 
to  nature.  It  is  not  allowed  to  run  out  in  every  direc- 
tion, to  waste  its  life  in  attaining  size.  Where  it  seems 
to  be  doing  grandly  and  promising  success,  the  knife  of 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 


the  vinedresser  ruthlessly  cuts  down  the  flourish,  and 
the  fine  appearance  lies  withering  on  the  ground.  But 
the  vintage  justifies  the  husbandman. 

III.  This  brings  us  to  the  third  idea  of  the  allegory — 
that  the  result  aimed  at  in  our  connection  with  Christ 
is  fruit-bearing.  The  allegory  bids  us  think  of  God 
as  engaged  in  the  tendance  and  culture  of  men  with 
the  watchful,  fond  interest  with  which  the  vinedresser 
tends  his  plants  through  every  stage  of  growth  and 
every  season  of  the  year,  and  even  when  there  is 
nothing  to  be  done  gazes  on  them  admiringly  and 
finds  still  some  little  attention  he  can  pay  them  ;  but 
all  in  the  hope  of  fruit.  All  this  interest  collapses  at 
once,  all  this  care  becomes  a  foolish  waste  of  time  and 
/Vpaterial,  and  reflects  discredit  and  ridicule  on  the  vine- 
dresser, if  there  is  no  fruit.  God  has  prepared  for  us 
in  this  life  a  soil  than  which  nothing  can  be  better  for 
the  production  of  the  fruit  He  desires  us  to  yield  ;  He 
has  made  it  possible  for  every  man  to  serve  a  good 
purpose ;  He  does  His  part  not  with  reluctance,  but, 
if  we  may  say  so,  as  His  chief  interest;  but  all  in  the 
expectation  of  fruit.  We  do  not  spend  days  of  labour 
and  nights  of  anxious  thought,  we  do  not  lay  out  all 
we  have  at  command,  on  that  which  is  to  effect  nothing 
and  give  no  satisfaction  to  ourselves  or  any  one  else ; 
and  neither  does  God.  He  did  not  make  thjs  world 
full  of  men  for  want  of  something  better  to  do,  as  a 
mere  idle  pastime.  He  made  it  that  the  earth  might 
yield  her  increase,  that  each  of  us  might  bring  forth 
fruit.  Fruit  alone  can  justify  the  expense  put  upon 
this  world.  The  wisdom,  the  patience,  the  love  that 
have  guided  all  things  through  the  slow-moving  ages 
will  be  justified  in  the  product.  And  what  this  product 
is  we  already  know  :  it  is  the  attainment  of  moral  per- 


xiv.  31— XV.  12.]     THE   VINE  AND   THE  BRANCHES.         185 

fection  by  created  beings.  To  this  all  that  has  been 
made  and  done  in  the  past  leads  up.  "  The  whole 
creation  groaneth  and  travaileth," — for  what  ?  "  For 
the  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God."  The  lives  and 
acts  of  good  men  are  the  adequate  return  for  all  past 
outlay,  the  satisfying  fruit. 

The  production  of  this  fruit  became  a  certainty  when 
Christ  was  planted  in  the  world  as  a  new  moral  stem. 
He  was  sent  into  the  world  not  to  make  some  magni- 
ficent outward  display  of  Divine  power,  to  carry  us 
to  some  other  planet,  or  alter  the  conditions  of  life 
here.  God  might  have  departed  from  His  purpose  of 
filling  this  earth  with  holy  men,  and  might  have  used 
it  for  some  easier  display  which  for  the  moment  might 
have  seemed  more  striking.  He  did  not  do  so.  It  was 
human  obedience,  the  fruit  of  genuine  human  righteous- 
ness, of  the  love  and  goodness  of  men  and  women,  that 
He  was  resolved  to  reap  from  earth.  He  was  resolved 
to  train  men  to  such  a  pitch  of  goodness  that  in  a  world 
contrived  to  tempt  there  should  be  found  nothing  so 
alluring,  nothing  so  terrifying,  as  to  turn  men  from  the 
straight  path.  He  was  to  produce  a  race  of  men  who, 
while  still  in  the  body,  urged  by  appetites,  assaulted 
by  passions  and  cravings,  with  death  threatening  and 
life  inviting,  should  prefer  all  suffering  rather  than  flinch 
from  duty,  should  prove  themselves  actually  superior 
to  every  assault  that  can  be  made  on  virtue,  should 
prove  that  spirit  is  greater  than  matter.  And  God  set 
Christ  in  the  world  to  be  the  living  type  of  human 
perfection,  to  attract  men  by  their  love  for  Him  to 
His  kind  of  life,  and  to  furnish  them  with  all  needed 
aid  in  becoming  like  Him — that  as  Christ  had  kept  the 
Father's  commandments,  His  disciples  should  keep  His 
commandments,  that  thus  a  common  understanding,  an 


i86  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

identity  of  interest  and  moral  life,  should  be  established 
between  God  and  man. 

Perhaps  it  is  not  pressing  the  figure  too  hard  to 
remark  that  the  fruit  differs  from  timber  in  this  respect — 
that  it  enters  into  and  nourishes  the  life  of  man.  No 
doubt  in  this  allegory  fruit-bearing  primarily  and  chiefly 
indicates  that  God's  purpose  in  creating  man  is  satisfied. 
The  tree  He  has  planted  is  not  barren,  but  fruitful. 
But  certainly  a  great  distinction  between  the  selfish  and 
the  unselfish  man,  between  the  man  who  has  private 
ambitions  and  the  man  who  labours  for  the  public  good, 
lies  in  this — that  the  selfish  man  seeks  to  erect  a  monu- 
ment of  some  kind  for  himself,  while  the  unselfish  man 
spends  himself  in  labours  that  are  not  conspicuous,  but 
assist  the  life  of  his  fellows.  An  oak  carving  or  a 
structure  of  hard  wood  will  last  a  thousand  years  and 
keep  in  memory  the  skill  of  the  designer :  fruit  is 
eaten  and  disappears,  but  it  passes  into  human  life, 
and  becomes  part  of  the  stream  that  flows  on  for  ever. 
The  ambitious  man  longs  to  execute  a  monumental 
work,  and  does  not  much  regard  whether  it  will  be  for 
the  good  of  men  or  not ;  a  great  war  will  serve  his 
turn,  a  great  book,  anything  conspicuous.  But  he  who 
is  content  to  be  a  branch  of  the  True  Vine  will  not 
seek  the  admiration  of  men,  but  will  strive  to  introduce 
a  healthy  spiritual  life  into  those  he  can  reach,  even 
although  in  order  to  do  so  he  must  remain  obscure 
and  must  see  his  labours  absorbed  without  notice  or 
recognition. 

Does  the  teaching  of  this  allegory,  then,  accord  with 
the  facts  of  life  as  we  know  them  ?  Is  it  a  truth,  and  a 
truth  we  must  act  upon,  that  apart  from  Christ  we  can 
do  nothing  ?  In  what  sense  and  to  what  extent  is 
association  with  Christ  really  necessary  to  us  ? 


xiv.3i— XV.  12.]     THE    VINE  AND  JHE  BRANCHES.         187 

Something  may  of  course  be  made  of  life  apart  from 
Christ,  A  man  may  have  much  enjoyment  and  a  man 
may  do  much  good  agart  from  Christ.  He  may  be  an 
inventor,  who  makes  human~nfe  easier  or  safer  or  fuller 
of  interest.  He  may  be  a  Hterary  man,  who  by  his 
writings  enlightens,  exhilarates,  and  elevates  mankind. 
He  m.ay,  with  entire  ignorance  or  utter  disregard  of 
Christ,  toil  for  his  country  or  for  his  class  or  for  his 
cause.  But  the  best  uses  and  ends  of  human  life 
cannot  be  attained  apart  from  Christ.  Only  in  Him 
does  the  reunion  of  man  with  God  seem  attainable,  and 
only  in  Him  do  God  and  God's  aim  and  work  in  the 
world  become  intelligible.  He  is  as  necessary  for  the 
spiritual  life  of  men  as  the  sun  is  for  this  physical  life. 
We  may  effect  something  by  candle-light ;  we  may  be 
quite  proud  of  electric  light,  and  think  we  are  getting 
far  towards  independence ;  but  what  man  in  his  senses 
will  be  betrayed  by  these  attainments  into  thinking  we 
may  dispense  with  the  sun  ?  Christ  holds  the  key  to 
all  that  is  most  permanent  in  human  endeavour,  to  all 
that  is  deepest  and  best  in  human  character.  Only  in 
Him  can  we  take  our  place  as  partners  with  God  in 
what  He  is  really  doing  with  this  world.  And  only 
from  Him  can  we  draw  courage,  hopefulness,  love  to 
prosecute  this  work.  In  Him  God  does  reveal  Himself, 
and  in  Him  the  fulness  of  God  is  found  by  us.  He  is 
in  point  of  fact  the  one  moral  stem  apart  from  whom 
we  are  not  bearing  and  cannot  bear  the  fruit  God 
desires. 

If,  then,  we  are  not  bringing  forth  fruit,  it  is  because 
there  is  a  flaw  in  our  connection  with  Christ ;  if  we  are 
conscious  that  the  results  of  our  hfe  and  activity  are 
not  such  results  as  He  designs,  and  are  in  no  sense 
traceable  to  Him,   this  is  because  there  is  something 


iS8  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN 

about  our  adherence  to  Him  that  is  loose  and  needs 
rectification.  Christ  calls  us  to  Him  and  makes  us 
sharers  in  His  work ;  and  he  who  listens  to  this  call 
and  counts  it  enough  to  be  a  branch  of  this  Vine  and 
do  His  will  is  upheld  by  Christ's  Spirit,  is  sweetened 
by  His  meekness  and  love,  is  purified  by  His  holy  and 
fearless  rectitude,  is  transformed  by  the  dominant  will 
of  this  Person  whom  he  has  received  deepest  into  his 
soul,  and  does  therefore  bring  forth,  in  whatever  place 
in  life  he  holds,  the  same  kind  of  fruit  as  Christ  Himself 
would  bring  forth  ;  it  is  indeed  Christ  who  brings  forth 
these  fruits,  Christ  at  a  few  steps  removed — for  every 
Christian  learns,  as  well  as  Paul,  to  say,  "  Not  I,  but 
Christ  in  me."  If,  then,  the  will  of  Christ  is  not  being 
fulfilled  through  us,  if  there  is  good  that  it  belongs  to 
us  to  do,  but  which  remains  undone,  then  the  point  of 
juncture  with  Christ  is  the  point  that  needs  looking  to. 
It  is  not  some  unaccountable  blight  that  makes  us 
useless ;  i't  is  not  that  we  have  got  the  wrong  piece  of 
the  wall,  a  situation  in  which  Christ  Himself  could  bear 
no  precious  fruit.  The  Husbandman  knew  His  own 
meaning  when  He  trained  us  along  that  restricted  line 
and  nailed  us  down  ;  He  chose  the  place  for  us,  know- 
ing the  quality  of  fruit  He  desires  us  to  yield.  The 
reason  of  our  fruitlessness  is  the  simple  one,  that  we 
J    ^y^  "^are  not  closely  enough  attached  to  Christ. 

How,  then,  is  it  with  ourselves  ?  By  examining  the 
results  of  our  lives,  would  any  one  be  prompted  to 
exclaim,  "  These  are  trees  of  righteousness,  the  planting 
of  the  Lord  that  He  may  be  glorified  "  ?  For  this  exami- 
nation is  made,  and  made  not  by  one  who  chances  to 
pass,  and  who,  being  a  novice  in  horticulture,  might  be 
deceived  by  a  show  of  leaves  or  poor  fruit,  or  whose 
examination  might  terminate  in  wonder  at  the  slothful- 


xiv.3i— XV.  12.]     THE   VINE  AND   THE  BRANCHES.         189 

ness  or  mismanagement  of  the  owner  who  allowed  such 
trees  to  cumber  his  ground;  but  the  examination  is 
made  by  One  who  has  come  for  the  express  purpose  of 
gathering  fruit,  who  knows  exactly  what  has  been  spent 
upon  us  and  what  might  have  been  made  of  our  oppor- 
tunities, who  has  in  His  own  mind  a  definite  idea  of 
the  fruit  that  should  be  found,  and  who  can  tell  by  a 
glance  whether  such  fruit  actually  exists  or  no.  To 
this  infallible  Judge  of  produce  what  have  we  to  offer  ? 
From  all  our  busy  engagement  in  many  affairs,  from  all 
our  thought,  what  has  resulted  that  we  can  offer  as  a 
satisfactory  return  for  all  that  has  been  spent  upon  us  ? 
It  is  deeds  of  profitable  service  such  as  men  of  large 
and  loving  nature  would  do  that  God  seeks  from  us. 
And  He  recognises  without  fail  what  is  love  and  what 
only  seems  so.  He  infallibly  detects  the  corroding  spot 
of  selfishness  that  rots  the  whole  fair-seeming  cluster. 
He  stands  undeceivable  before  us,  and  takes  our  lives 
precisely  for  what  they  are  worth. 

It  concerns  us  to  make  such  inquiries,  for  fruitless 
branches  cannot  be  tolerated.  The  purpose  of  the  tree 
is  fruit.  If,  then,  we  would  escape  all  suspicion 'of  our 
own  state  and  all  reproach  of  fruitlessness,  what  we 
have  to  do  is,  not  so  much  to  find  out  new  rules  for 
conduct,  as  to  strive  to  renew  our  hold  upon  Christ  and 
intelligently  to  enter  into  His  purposes.  "Abide  in 
Him."  This  is  the  secret  of  fruitfulness.  All  that  the 
branch  needs  is  in  the  Vine ;  it  does  not  need  to  go 
beyond  the  Vine  for  anything.  When  we  feel  the  life 
of  Christ  ebbing  from  our  soul,  when  we  see  our  leaf 
fading,  when  we  feel  sapless,  heartless  for  Christian 
duty,  reluctant  to  work  for  others,  to  take  anything  to 
do  with  the  relief  of  misery  and  the  repression  of  vice, 
there  is  a  remedy  for  this  state,  and  it  is  to  renew  our 


I90  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

fellowship  with  Christ — to  allow  the  mind  once  again 
to  conceive  clearly  the  worthiness  of  His  aims,  to  yield 
the  heart  once  again  to  the  vitalising  influence  of  His 
love,  to  turn  from  the  vanities  and  futilities  with  which 
men  strive  to  make  life  seem  important  to  the  reality 
and  substantial  worth  of  the  life  of  Christ.  To  abide 
in  Christ  is  to  abide  by  our  adoption  of  His  view  of  the 
true  purpose  of  human  life  after  testing  it  by  actual 
experience ;  it  is  to  abide  by  our  trust  in  Him  as  the 
.true  Lord  of  men,  and  as  able  to  supply  us  with  all 
that  we  need  to  keep  His  commandments.  And  thus 
abiding  in  Christ  we  are  sustained  by  Him ;  for  He 
abides  in  us,  imparts  to  us,  His  branches  now  on 
earth,  the  force  which  is  needful  to  accomplish  His 
purposes. 


XIII. 

NOT  SERVANTS,   BUT  FRIENDS. 


J9I 


"  Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this,  that  a  man  lay  down  his  life 
for  his  friends.  Ye  are  My  friends,  if  ye  do  the  things  which  I  command 
you.  No  longer  do  I  call  you  servants  ;  for  the  servant  knoweth  not 
what  his  lord  doeth  :  but  I  have  called  you  friends  ;  for  all  things 
that  I  heard  from  My  Father  I  have  made  known  unto  you.  Ye  did 
not  choose  Me,  but  I  chose  you,  and  appointed  you,  that  ye  should  go  and 
bear  fruit,  and  that  your  fruit  should  abide  :  that  whatsoever  ye  shall 
ask  of  the  Father  in  My  name.  He  may  give  it  you.  These  things  I 
command  you,  that  ye  may  love  one  another." — John  xv.  13-17. 


I9!» 


XIII. 

NOT  SERVANTS,  BUT  FRIENDS. 

THESE  words  of  our  Lord  are  the  charter  of  our 
emancipation.  They  give  us  entrance  into  true 
freedom.  They  set  us  in  the  same  attitude  towards 
life  and  towards  God  as  Christ  Himself  occupied. 
Without  this  proclamation  of  freedom  and  all  it  covers 
we  are  the  mere  drudges  of  this  world, — doing  its  work, 
but  without  any  great  and  far-reaching  aim  that  makes 
it  worth  doing;  accepting  the  tasks  allotted  to  us 
because  we  must,  not  because  we  will ;  living  on 
because  we  happen  to  be  here,  but  without  any  part  in 
that  great  future  towards  which  all  things  are  running 
on.  But  this  is  of  the  very  essence  of  slavery.  For 
our  Lord  here  lays  His  finger  on  the  sorest  part  of  this 
deepest  of  human  sores  when  He  says,  "  The  slave 
knows  not  what  his  master  does."  It  is  not  that  his 
back  is  torn  with  the  lash,  it  is  not  that  he  is  underfed 
and  overworked,  it  is  not  that  he  is  poor  and  despised  ; 
all  this  would  be  cheerfully  undergone  to  serve  a 
cherished  purpose  and  accomplish  ends  a  man  had 
chosen  for  himself  But  when  all  this  must  be  endured 
to  work  out  the  purposes  of  another,  purposes  never 
hinted  to  him,  and  with  which,  were  they  hinted,  he 
might  have'  no  sympathy,  this  is  slavery,  this  is  to 
be  treated  as  a  tool  for  accomplishing  aim.s  chosen 
VOL.  11.  193  1 2 


194  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


by  another,  and  to  be  robbed  of  all  that  consti- 
tutes manhood.  Sailors  and  soldiers  have  sometimes 
mutinied  when  subjected  to  similar  treatment,  when  no 
inkling  has  been  given  them  of  the  port  to  which  they 
are  shipped  or  the  nature  of  the  expedition  on  which 
they  are  led.  Men  do  not  feel  degraded  by  any 
amount  of  hardship,  by  going  for  months  on  short 
rations  or  lying  in  frost  without  tents  ;  but  they  do  feel 
degraded  when  they  are  used  as  weapons  of  offence, 
as  if  they  had  no  intelligence  to  appreciate  a  worthy 
aim,  no  power  of  sympathising  with  a  great  design, 
no  need  of  an  interest  in  life  and  a  worthy  object  on 
which  to  spend  it,  no  share  in  the  common  cause.  Yet 
such  is  the  life  with  which,  apart  from  Christ,  we  must 
perforce  be  content,  doing  the  tasks  appointed  us  with 
no  sustaining  consciousness  that  our  work  is  part  of  a 
great  whole  working  out  the  purposes  of  the  Highest. 
Even  such  a  spirit  as  Carlyle  is  driven  to  say :  **  Here 
on  earth  we  are  soldiers,  fighting  in  a  foreign  land,  that 
understand  not  the  plan  of  campaign  and  have  no  need 
to  understand  it,  seeing  what  is  at  our  hand  to  be 
done," — excellent  counsel  for  slaves,  but  not  descriptive 
of  the  life  we  are  meant  for,  nor  of  the  life  our  Lord 
would  be  content  to  give  us. 

To  give  us  true  freedom,  to  make  this  life  a  thing  we 
choose  with  the  clearest  perception  of  its  uses  and  with 
the  utmost  ardour,  our  Lord  makes  known  to  us  all  that 
He  heard  of  the  Father.  What  He  had  heard  of  the 
Father,  all  that  the  Spirit  of  the  Father  had  taught  Him 
of  the  need  of  human  effort  and  of  human  righteous- 
ness, all  that  as  He  grew  up  to  manhood  He 
recognised  of  the  deep-seated  woes  of  humanity,  and 
all  that  He  was  prompted  to  do  for  the  relief  of  these 
woes.  He  made  known  to  His  disciples.     The  irresistible 


XV.  13-17]        NOT  SERVANTS,   BUT  FRIENDS.  195 

call  to  self-sacrifice  and  labour  for  the  relief  of  men 
which  He  heard  and  obeyed,  He  made  known  and  He 
makes  known  to  all  who  follow  Him.  He  did  not 
allot  clearly  defined  tasks  to  His  followers  ;  He  did 
not  treat  them  as  slaves,  appointing  one  to  this  and 
another  to  that :  He  showed  them  His  own  aim  and 
His  own  motive,  and  left  them  as  His  friends  to  be 
attracted  by  the  aim  that  had  drawn  Him,  and  to  be 
ever  animated  with  the  motive  that  sufficed  for  Him. 
What  had  made  His  life  so  glorious,  so  full  of  joy, 
so  rich  in  constant  reward,  He  knew  would  fill  their 
lives  also;  and  He  leaves  them  free  to  choose  it  for 
themselves,  to  stand  before  life  as  independent,  un- 
fettered, undriven  men,  and  choose  without  compulsion 
what  their  own  deepest  convictions  prompted  them  to 
choose.  The  "  friend  "  is  not  compelled  blindly  to  go 
through  with  a  task  whose  result  he  does  not  under- 
stand or  does  not  sympathise  with ;  the  friend  is 
invited  to  share  in  a  work  in  which  he  has  a  direct  "^ 
personal  interest  and  to  which  he  can  give  himself 
cordially.  All  life  should  be  the  forwarding  of  pur- 
poses we  approve,  the  bringing  about  of  ends,  we 
earnestly  desire  :  all  life,  if  we  are  free  men,  must  be 
matter  of  choice,  not  of  compulsion.  And  therefore 
Christ,  having  heard  or  the  Father  that  which  made 
Him  feel  straitened  until  the  great  aim  of  His  life 
could  be  accomplished,  which  made  Him  press  forward 
through  life  attracted  and  impelled  by  the  conscious- 
ness of  its  infinite  value  as  achieving  endless  good, 
imparts  to  us  what  moved  and  animated  Him,  that 
we  may  freely  choose  as  He  chose  and  enter  into  the 
joy  of  our  Lord. 

This,    then,    is    the  point   of  this   great  utterance: 
Jesus  takes  our  lives  up  into  partnership  with  His  own. 


196  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

He  sets  before  us  the  same  views  and  hopes  which 
animated  Himself,  and  gives  us  a  prospect  of  being 
useful  to  Him  and  in  His  work.  If  we  engage  in  the 
work  of  life  with  a  dull  and  heartless  feeling  of  its 
weariness,  or  merely  for  the  sake  of  gaining  a  liveli- 
hood, if  we  are  not  drawn  to  labour  by  the  prospect  of 
result,  then  we  have  scarcely  entered  into  the  condi- 
tion our  Lord  opens  to  us.  It  is  for  the  merest  slaves 
to  view  their  labour  with  indifference  or  repugnance. 
Out  of  this  state  our  Lord  calls  us,  by  making  known 
to  us  what  the  Father  made  known  to  Him,  by  giving 
us  the  whole  means  of  a  free,  rational,  and  fruitful  life. 
He  gives  us  the  fullest  satisfaction  moral  beings  can 
have,  because  He  fills  our  life  with  intelligent  pur- 
pose. He  lifts  us  into  a  position  in  which  we  see 
that  we  are  not  the  slaves  of  fate  or  of  this  world,  but 
that  all  things  are  ours,  that  we,  through  and  with  Him, 
are  masters  of  the  position,  and  that  so  far  from  think- 
ing it  almost  a  hardship  to  have  been  born  into  so 
melancholy  and  hopeless  a  world,  we  have  really  the 
best  reason  and  the  highest  possible  object  for  living. 
He  comes  among  us  and  says,  "  Let  us  all  work  together. 
Something  can  be  made  of  this  world.  Let  us  with 
heart  and  hope  strive  to  make  of  it  something  worthy. 
Let  unity  of  aim  and  of  work  bind  us  together."  This 
is  indeed  to  redeem  life  from  its  vanity. 

He  says  this,  and  lest  any  should  think,  "This  is 
fantastic  ;  how  can  such  an  one  as  I  am  forward  the 
work  of  Christ  ?  It  is  enough  if  I  get  from  Him 
salvation  for  myself,"  He  goes  on  to  say,  "  Ye  have 
not  chosen  Me,  but  I  have  chosen  you,  and  ordained 
you  that  ye  should  go  and  bring  forth  fruit,  and  that 
your  fruit  should  remain.  It  was,"  He  says,  "precisely 
in  view  of  the  eternal    results    of  your  work  that   I 


XV.  13-17.]        NOT  SERVANTS,   BUT  FRIENDS.  197 

selected  you  and  called  you  to  follow  Me."  It  was  true 
then,  and  it  is  true  now,  that  the  initiative  in  our  fellow- 
ship with  Christ  is  with  Him.  So  far  as  the  first  dis- 
ciples were  concerned  Jesus  might  have  spent  His  life 
making  ploughs  and  cottage  furniture.  No  one  dis- 
covered Him.  Neither  does  any  one  now  discover 
Him.  It  is  He  who  comes  and  summons  us  to  follow 
and  to  serve  Him.  He  does  so  because  He  sees  that 
there  is  that  which  we  can  do  which  no  one  else  can  : 
relationships  we  hold,  opportunities  we  possess,  capa- 
cities for  just  this  or  that,  which  are  our  special  pro- 
perty into  which  no  other  can  possibly  step,  and  which, 
if  we  do  not  use  them,  cannot  otherwise  be  used. 

Does  He,  then,  point  out  to  us  with  unmistakable 
exactness  what  we  are  to  do,  and  how  we  are  to  do  it  ? 
Does  He  lay  down  for  us  a  code  of  rules  so  multifarious 
and  significant  that  we  cannot  mistake  the  precise 
piece  of  work  He  requires  from  us  ?  He  does  not. 
He  has  but  one  sole  commandment,  and  this  is  no 
commandment,  because  we  cannot  keep  it  on  compul- 
sion, but  only  at  the  prompting  of  our  own  inward 
spirit :  He  bids  us  love  one  another.  He  comes  back 
and  back  to  this  with  significant  persistence,  and  declines 
to  utter  one  other  commandment.  In  love  alone  is 
sufficient  wisdom,  sufficient  motive,  and  sufficient  re- 
ward for  human  life.  It  alone  has  adequate  wisdom 
for  all  situations,  new  resource  for  every  fresh  need, 
adaptability  to  all  emergencies,  an  inexhaustible  fertility 
and  competency;  it  alone  can  bring  the  capability 
of  each  to  the  service  of  all.  Without  love  we  beat 
the  air. 

That  love  is  our  true  life  is  shown  further  by  this— 
that  it  is  its  own  reward.  When  a  man's  life  is  in  any 
intelligible  sense  proceeding  from   love,  when  this   is 


198  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

his  chief  motive,  he  is  content  with  Hving,  and  looks 
for  no  reward.  His  joy  is  already  full ;  he  does  not 
ask,  What  shall  I  be  the  better  of  thus  sacrificing 
myself?  what  shall  I  gain  by  all  this  regulation  of  my 
life  ?  what  good  return  in  the  future  shall  I  have  for  all 
I  am  losing  now  ?  He  cannot  ask  these  questions,  if 
the  motive  of  his  self-sacrificing  life  be  love ;  just  as 
little  as  the  husband  could  ask  what  reward  he  should 
have  for  loving  his  wife.  A  man  would  be  astounded 
and  would  scarcely  know  what  you  meant  if  you  asked 
him  what  he  expected  to  get  by  loving  his  children  or 
his  parents  or  his  friends.  Get  ?  Why  he  does  not 
expect  to  get  anything ;  he  does  not  love  for  an  object : 
he  loves  because  he  cannot  help  it ;  and  the  chief  joy 
of  his  life  is  in  these  unrewarded  affections.  He  no 
longer  looks  forward  and  thinks  of  a  fulness  of  life 
that  is  to  be ;  he  already  lives  and  is  satisfied  with  the 
life  he  has.  His  happiness  is  present ;  his  reward  is 
that  he  may  be  allowed  to  express  his  love,  to  feed  it, 
to  gratify  it  by  giving  and  labouring  and  sacrificing. 
In  a  word,  he  finds  in  love  eternal  life — life  that  is  full 
of  joy,  that  kindles  and  enlivens  his  whole  nature,  that 
carries  him  out  of  himself  and  makes  him  capable  of 
all  good. 

This  truth,  then,  that  whatever  a  man  does  from 
love  is  its  own  reward,  is  the  solution  of  the  question 
whether  virtue  is  its  own  reward.  Virtue  is  its 
own  reward  when  it  is  inspired  by  love.  Life  is  its 
own  reward  when  love  is  the  principle  of  it.  We 
know  that  we  should  always  be  happy  were  we 
always  loving.  We  know  that  we  should  never  weary 
of  living  nor  turn  with  distaste  from  our  work  were 
all  our  work  only  the  expression  of  our  love,  of  our 
deep,   true,  and  well-directed  regard   for    the  good  of 


XV.  13-17]        NOT  SERVANTS,   BUT  FRIENDS.  199 

Others.  It  is  when  we  disregard  our  Lord's  one 
commandment  and  try  some  other  kind  of  virtuous 
Hving  that  joy  departs  from  our  life,  and  we  begin 
to  hope  for  some  future  reward  which  may  compen- 
sate for  the  duhiess  of  the  present — as  if  a  change 
of  time  could  change  the  essential  conditions  of  life 
and  happiness.  If  we  are  not  joyful  now,  if  life  is 
dreary  and  dull  and  pointless  to  us,  so  that  we  crave 
the  excitement  of  a  speculative  business,  or  of  boisterous 
social  meetings,  or  of  individual  success  and  applause, 
then  it  should  be  quite  plain  to  us  that  as  yet  we  have 
not  found  life,  and  have  not  the  capacity  for  eternal 
life  quickened  in  us.  If  we  are  able  to  love  one  human 
being  in  some  sort  as  Christ  loved  us — that  is  to  say,  if 
our  affection  is  so  fixed  upon  any  one  that  we  feel  we 
could  give  our  life  for  that  person — let  us  thank  God 
for  this  ;  for  this  love  of  ours  gives  us  the  key  to  human 
life,  and  will  better  instruct  us  in  what  is  most  essential 
to  know,  and  lead  us  on  to  what  is  most  essential  to 
be  and  to  do  than  any  one  can  teach  us.  It  is  pro- 
foundly and  widely  true,  as  John  says,  that  every  one 
that  loveth  is  born  of  God  and  knoweth  God.  If  we 
love  one  human  being,  we  at  least  know  that  a  life  in 
which  love  is  the  main  element  needs  no  reward  and 
looks  for  none.  We  see  that  God  looks  for  no  reward, 
but  is  eternally  blessed  because  simply  God  is  eternally 
love.  Life  eternal  must  be  a  life  of  love,  of  delight  in 
our  fellows,  of  rejoicing  in  their  good  and  seeking  to 
increase  their  happiness. 

Sometimes,  however,  we  find  ourselves  grieving  at 
the  prosperity  of  the  wicked  :  we  think  that  they  should 
be  unhappy,  and  yet  they  seem  more  satisfied  than  our- 
selves. They  pay  no  regard  whatever  to  the  law  of 
life  laid  down  by  our  Lord ;  they  never  dream  of  living 


THE   GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 


for  others  ;  they  have  never  once  proposed  to  them- 
selves to  consider  whether  His  great  law,  that  a  man 
must  lose  his  life  if  he  is  to  have  it  eternally,  has  any 
application  to  them ;  and  yet  they  seem  to  enjoy  life 
as  much  as  anybody  can.  Take  a  man  who  has  a 
good  constitution,  and  who  is  in  easy  circumstances, 
and  who  has  a  good  and  pure  nature ;  you  will  often 
see  such  a  man  living  with  no  regard  to  the  Christian 
rule,  and  yet  enjoying  life  thoroughly  to  the  very  end. 
And  of  course  it  is  just  such  a  spectacle,  repeated 
everywhere  throughout  society,  that  influences  men's 
minds  and  tempts  all  of  us  to  believe  that  such  a 
life  is  best  after  all,  and  that  selfishness  as  well  as  un- 
selfishness can  be  happy ;  or  at  all  events  that  we  can 
have  as  much  happiness  as  our  own  disposition  is 
capable  of  by  a  self-seeking  life.  Now,  when  we  are 
in  a  mood  to  compare  our  own  happiness  with  that  of 
other  men,  our  own  happiness  must  obviously  be  at 
a  low  ebb ;  but  when  we  resent  the  prosperity  of  the 
wicked,  we  should  remember  that,  though  they  may 
flourish  like  the  green  bay  tree,  their  fruit  does  not 
remain  :  living  for  themselves,  their  fruit  departs  with 
themselves,  their  good  is  interred  with  their  bones. 
But  it  is  also  to  be  considered  that  we  should  never 
allow  ourselves  to  get  the  length  of  putting  this  question 
or  of  comparing  our  happiness  with  that  of  others.  For 
we  can  only  do  so  when  we  are  ourselves  disappointed 
and  discontented  and  have  missed  the  joy  of  life  ;  and 
this  again  can  be  only  when  we  have  ceased  to  live 
lovingly  for  others. 

But  this  one  essential  of  Christian  service  and  human 
freedom — how  are  we  to  attain  it  ?  Is  it  not  the  one 
thing  which  seems  obstinately  to  stand  beyond  our 
grasp  ?     For  the   human  heart  has  laws  of  its  own, 


XV.  I3-I7-]       NOT  SERVANTS,  BUT  FRIENDS.  201 

and  cannot  love  to  order  or  admire  because  it  ought. 
But  Christ  brings,  in  Himself,  the  fountain  out  of  which 
our  hearts  can  be  supplied,  the  fire  which  kindles  all 
who  approach  it.  No  one  can  receive  His  love  without 
sharing  it.  No  one  can  dwell  upon  Christ's  love  for 
him  and  treasure  it  as  his  true  and  central  possession 
without  finding  his  own  heart  enlarged  and  softened. 
Until  our  own  heart  is  flooded  with  the  great  and 
regenerating  love  of  Christ,  we  strive  in  vain  to  love 
our  fellows.  It  is  when  we  fully  admit  it  that  it  over- 
flows through  our  own  satisfied  and  quickened  affections 
to  others. 

And  perhaps  we  do  well  not  too  curiously  to  question 
and  finger  our  love,  making  sure  only  that  we  are 
keeping  ourselves  in  Christ's  fellowship  and  seeking 
to  do  His  will.  Affection,  indeed,  induces  companion- 
ship, but  also  companionship  produces  affection,  and 
the  honest  and  hopeful  endeavour  to  serve  Christ 
loyally  will  have  its  reward  in  a  deepening  devotion. 
It  is  not  the  recruit  but  the  veteran  whose  heart  is 
wholly  his  chief's.  And  he  who  has  long  and  faithfully 
served  Christ  will  not  need  to  ask  where  his  heart  is. 
We  hate  those  whom  we  have  injured,  and  we  love 
those  whom  we  have  served  ;  and  if  by  long  service 
we  can  win  our  way  to  an  intimacy  with  Christ  which 
no  longer  needs  to  question  itself  or  test  its  soundness, 
in  that  service  we  may  most  joyfully  engage.  For 
what  can  be  a  happier  consummation  than  to  find  our- 
selves finally  overcome  by  the  love  of  Christ,  drawn 
with  all  the  force  of  a  Divine  attraction,  convinced  that 
here  is  our  rest,  and  that  this  is  at  once  our  motive  and 
our  reward  ? 


XIV. 

THE   SPIRIT  CHRIST'S   WITNESS. 


"If  the  world  hateth  you,  ye  know  that  it  hath  hated  Me  before  it 
hated  you.  If  ye  were  of  the  world,  the  world  would  love  its  own : 
but  because  ye  are  not  of  the  world,  but  I  chose  you  out  of  the  world, 
therefore  the  world  hateth  you.  Remember  the  word  that  I  said 
unto  you,  A  servant  is  not  greater  than  his  lord.  If  they  persecuted 
Me,  they  will  also  persecute  you  ;  if  they  kept  My  word,  they  will 
keep  yours  also.  But  all  these  things  will  they  do  unto  you  for  My 
name's  sake,  because  they  know  not  Him  that  sent  Me.  If  I  had  not 
come  and  spoken  unto  them,  they  had  not  had  sin  :  but  now  they 
have  no  excuse  for  their  sin.  He  that  hateth  Me  hateth  My  Father 
also.  If  I  had  not  done  among  them  the  works  which  none  other  did, 
they  had  not  had  sin  :  but  now  have  they  both  seen  and  hated  both 
Me  and  My  Father.  But  this  cometh  to  pass,  that  the  word  may  be 
fulfilled  that  is  written  in  their  law.  They  hated  Me  without  a  cause. 
But  when  the  Comforter  is  come,  whom  I  will  send  unto  you  from  the 
Father,  even  the  Spirit  of  truth,  which  proceedeth  from  the  Father, 
He  .shall  bear  witness  of  Me  :  and  ye  also  bear  witness,  because  ye  have 
been  with  Me  from  the  beginning.  These  things  have  I  spoken  unto 
you,  that  ye  should  not  be  made  to  stumble.  They  shall  put  you  out 
of  the  synagogues  :  yea,  the  hour  cometh,  that  whosoever  killeth 
you  shall  think  that  he  offereth  service  unto  God.  And  these  things 
will  they  do,  because  they  have  not  known  the  Father,  nor  Me.  But 
these  things  have  I  spoken  unto  you,  that  when  their  hour  is  come,  ye 
may  remember  them,  how  that  I  told  you.  And  these  things  I  said 
not  unto  you  from  the  beginning,  because  I  was  with  you.  But  now 
I  go  unto  Him  that  sent  Me  ;  and  none  of  you  asketh  Me,  Whither 
goest  Thou  ?  But  because  I  have  spoken  these  thing;  unto  you,  sorrow 
liath  filled  your  heart.  Nevertheless  I  tell  you  the  truth  ;  It  is 
expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away :  for  if  I  go  not  away,  the  Comforter 
will  not  come  unto  you  ;  but  if  I  go,  I  will  send  Him  unto  you.  And 
He,  when  He  is  come,  will  convict  the  world  in  respect  of  sin,  and  of 
righteousness,  and  of  judgment :  of  sin,  because  they  believe  not  on 
Me ;  of  righteousness,  because  I  go  to  the  Father,  and  ye  behold  Me 
no  more  ;  of  judgment,  because  the  prince  of  this  world  hath  been 
judged.  I  have  yet  many  things  to  say  unto  you,  but  ye  cannot  bear 
them  now.  Howbeit  when  He,  the  Spirit  of  truth,  is  come,  He  shall 
guide  you  into  all  the  truth :  for  He  shall  not  speak  from  Himself ; 
but  what  things  soever  He  shall  hear,  these  shall  He  speak  :  and  He 
shall  declare  unto  you  the  things  that  are  to  come.  He  shall  glorify 
Me :  for  He  shall  take  of  Mine,  and  shall  declare  it  unto  you.  All 
things  whatsoever  the  Father  hath  are  Mine :  therefore  said  I,  that 
He  taketh  of  Mine,  and  shall  declare  it  unto  you." — John  xv.  i8 — 
xvi.    15. 


204 


XIV. 

THE  SPIRIT  CHRIST'S   WITNESS. 

HAVING  shown  His  disciples  that  by  them  only 
can  His  purposes  on.  earth  be  fulfilled,  and  that 
He  will  fit  them  for  all  work  that  may  be  required  of 
them,  the  Lord  now  adds  that  their  task  will  be  full 
of  hazard  and  hardship :  "  They  shall  put  you  out  of 
the  synagogues :  yea,  the  time  cometh  that  whosoever 
killeth  you  will  think  that  he  offereth  service  unto 
God."  This  was  but  a  dreary  prospect,  and  one  to 
make  each  Apostle  hesitate,  and  in  the  privacy  of  his 
own  thoughts  consider  whether  he  should  face  a  life 
so  devoid  of  all  that  men  naturally  crave.  To  live  for 
great  ends  is  no  doubt  animating,  but  to  be  compelled 
in  doing  so  to  abandon  all  expectation  of  recognition, 
and  to  lay  one's  account  for  abuse,  poverty,  persecu- 
tion, calls  for  some  heroism  in  him  that  undertakes 
such  a  life.  He  forewarns  them  of  this  persecution, 
that  when  it  comes  they  may  not  be  taken  aback  and 
fancy  that  things  are  not  falling  out  with  them  as  their 
Lord  anticipated.  And  He  offers  them  two  strong 
consolations  which  might  uphold  and  animate  them 
under  all  they  should  be  called  upon  to  suffer. 

L  "  If  the  world  hateth  you,  ye  know  that  it  hath 
hated  Me  before  it  hated  you.  If  ye  were  of  the 
world,  the  world  would  love  its  own ;  but  because  ye 

205 


2o6  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

are  not  of  the  world,  but  I  chose  you  out  of  the  world, 
therefore  the  world  hateth  you."  Persecution  is  thus 
turned  into  a  joy,  because  it  is  the  testimony  paid  by 
the  world  to  the  disciples'  identity  with  Christ.  The 
love  of  the  world  would  be  a  sure  evidence  of  their 
unfaithfulness  to  Christ  and  of  their  entire  lack  of 
resemblance  to  Him ;  but  its  hate  was  the  tribute  it 
would  pay  to  their  likeness  to  Him  and  successful 
promotion  of  His  cause.  They  might  well  question 
their  loyalty  to  Christ,  if  the  world  which  had  slain 
Him  fawned  upon  them.  The  Christian  may  conclude 
he  is  reckoned  a  helpless  and  harmless  foe  if  he  suffers 
no  persecution,  if  in  no  company  he  is  frowned  upon 
or  felt  to  be  uncongenial,  if  he  is  treated  by  the  world 
as  if  its  aims  were  his  aims  and  its  spirit  his  spirit. 
No  faithful  follower  of  Christ  who  mixes  with  society 
can  escape  every  form  of  persecution.  It  is  the  seal 
which  the  world  puts  on  the  choice  of  Christ.  It  is 
proof  that  a  man's  attachment  to  Christ  and  endeavour 
to  forward  His  purposes  have  been  recognised  by  the 
world.  Persecution,  then,  should  be  welcome  as  the 
world's  testimony  to  the  disciple's  identity  with  Christ. 
No  idea  had  fixed  itself  more  deeply  in  the  mind 
of  John  than  this  of  the  identity  of  Christ  and  His 
people.  As  he  brooded  upon  the  life  of  Christ  and 
sought  to  penetrate  to  the  hidden  meanings  of  all  that 
appeared  on  the  surface,  he  came  to  see  that  the  un- 
belief and  hatred  with  which  He  was  met  was  the 
necessary  result  of  goodness  presented  to  worldliness 
and  selfishness.  And  as  time  went  on  he  saw  that 
the  experience  of  Christ  was  exceptional  only  in  degree, 
that  His  experience  was  and  would  be  repeated  in 
every  one  who  sought  to  live  in  His  Spirit  and  to  do 
His  will.     The  future  of  the  Church  accordingly  pre- 


XV.  i8— xvi.  15.]     THE  SPIRIT  CHRIST'S    WITNESS.  207 

sented  itself  to  him  as  a  history  of  conflict,  of  extreme 
cruelty  on  the  part  of  the  world  and  quiet  conquering 
endurance  on  the  part  of  Christ's  people.  And  it  was 
this  which  he  embodied  in  the  Book  of  Revelation. 
This  book  he  wrote  as  a  kind  of  detailed  commentary 
on  the  passage  before  us,  and  in  it  he  intended  to 
depict  the  sufferings  and  final  conquest  of  the  Church. 
The  one  book  is  a  reflex  and  supplement  to  the  other  ; 
and  as  in  the  Gospel  he  had  shown  the  unbelief  and 
cruelty  of  the  world  against  Christ,  so  in  the  Revelation 
he  shows  in  a  series  of  strongly  coloured  pictures  how 
the  Church  of  Christ  would  pass  through  the  same 
experience,  would  be  persecuted  as  Christ  was  per- 
secuted, but  would  ultimately  conquer.  Both  books 
are  wrought  out  with  extreme  care  and  finished  to  the 
minutest  detail,  and  both  deal  with  the  cardmal  matters 
of  human  history — sin,  righteousness,  and  the  final 
result  of  their  conflict.  Underneath  all  that  appears 
on  the  surface  in  the  life  of  the  individual  and  in  the 
history  of  the  race  there  are  just  these  abiding  elements 
— sin  and  righteousness.  It  is  the  moral  value  of 
things  which  in  the  long  run  proves  of  consequence,  the 
moral  element  which  ultimately  determines  all  else. 

II.  The  second  consolation  and  encouragement  the 
Lord  gave  them  was  that  they  would  receive  the  aid  of 
a  powerful  champion — the  Paraclete,  the  one  effectual, 
sufficient  Helper.  "  When  the  Paraclete  is  come, 
whom  I  will  send  unto  you  from  the  Father,  even  the 
Spirit  of  truth,  which  proceedeth  from  the  Father,  he 
shall  bear  witness  of  Me :  and  ye  also  bear  witness, 
because  ye  have  been  with  Me  from  the  beginning." 
Inevitably  the  disciples  would  argue  that,  if  the  words 
and  works  of  Jesus  Himself  had  not  broken  down  the 
unbelief  of  the  world,  it  was  not  likely  that  anything 


2o8  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

which  they  could  say  or  do  would  have  that  effect.  If 
the  impressive  presence  of  Christ  Himself  had  not 
attracted  and  convinced  all  men,  how  was  it  possible 
that  mere  telling  about  what  He  had  said  and  done 
and  been  would  convince  them  ?  And  He  has  just 
been  reminding  them  how  little  effect  His  own  words 
and  Vv?orks  had  had.  "  If  I  had  not  come  and  spoken 
unto  them,  they  had  not  had  sin :  ...  if  I  had  not 
done  among  them  the  works  which  none  other  did, 
they  had  not  had  sin  :  but  now  have  they  both  seen 
and  hated  both  Me  and  My  Father."  What  power, 
then,  could  break  down  this  obstinate  unbelief? 

Our  Lord  assures  them  that  together  with  their 
witness-bearing  there  will  be  an  all-powerful  witness — 
"the  Spirit  of  truth";  one  who  could  find  access  to 
the  hearts  and  minds  to  which  they  addressed  them- 
selves and  carry  truth  home  to  conviction.  It  was  on 
this  account  that  it  was  "  expedient "  that  their  Lord 
should  depart,  and  that  His  visible  presence  should 
be  superseded  by  the  presence  of  the  Spirit.  It  was 
necessary  that  His  death,  resurrection,  and  ascension 
to  the  right  hand  of  the  Father  should  take  place, 
in  order  that  His  supremacy  might  be  secured.  And 
in  order  that  He  might  be  everywhere  and  inwardly 
present  with  men,  it  was  necessary  that  He  should  be 
visible  nowhere  on  earth.  The  inward  spiritual  pre- 
sence depended  on  the  bodily  absence. 

Before  passing  to  the  specific  contents  of  the  Spirit's 
testimony,  as  stated  in  vv.  8-ii,  it  is  necessary  to 
gather  up  what  our  Lord  indicates  regarding  the  Spirit 
Himself  and  His  function  in  the  Christian  dispensation. 
First,  the  Spirit  here  spoken  of  is  a  personal  existence. 
Throughout  all  that  our  Lord  says  in  this  last  con- 
versation regarding   the    Spirit    personal    epithets   are 


XV.  i8-xvi.  15.]     THE  SPIRIT  CHRIST'S   WITNESS.  209 

applied  to  Him,  and  the  actions  ascribed  to  Him  are 
personal  actions.  He  is  to  be  the  substitute  of  the 
most  marked  and  influential  Personality  with  whom  the 
disciples  had  ever  been  brought  in  contact.  He  is  to 
supply  His  vacated  place.  He  is  to  be  to  the  dis- 
ciples as  friendly  and  staunch  an  ally  and  a  more 
constantly  present  and  efficient  teacher  than  Christ 
Himself  What  as  yet  was  not  in  their  minds  He 
was  to  impart  to  them ;  and  He  was  to  mediate  and 
maintain  communication  between  the  absent  Lord  and 
themselves.  Was  it  possible  that  the  disciples  should 
think  of  the  Spirit  otherwise  than  as  a  conscious  and 
energetic  Person  when  they  heard  Him  spoken  of  in 
such  words  as  these :  "  Howbeit  when  He,  the  Spirit 
of  truth,  is  come,  He  shall  guide  you  into  all  the  truth  : 
for  He  shall  not  speak  from  Himself;  but  what  things 
soever  He  shall  hear,  these  shall  He  speak  :  and  He 
shall  declare  unto  you  the  things  that  are  to  come. 
He  shall  glorify  Me  :  for  He  shall  take  of  Mine,  and 
shall  declare  it  unto  you  "  ?  From  these  words  it  would 
seem  as  if  the  disciples  were  justified  in  expecting  the 
presence  and  aid  of  One  who  was  very  closely  related 
to  their  Lord,  but  yet  distinct  from  Him,  who  could 
understand  their  state  of  mind  and  adapt  Himself  to 
them,  who  is  not  identical  with  the  Master  they  are 
losing,  and  yet  comes  into  still  closer  contact  with 
them.  What  underlies  this,  and  what  is  the  very 
nature  of  the  Spirit  and  His  relation  to  the  Father  and 
the  Son,  we  do  not  know ;  but  our  Lord  chose  these 
expressions  which  to  our  thought  involve  personality 
because  this  is  the  truest  and  safest  form  under  which 
we  can  now  conceive  of  the  Spirit. 

The  function  for  the  discharge  of  which  this  Spirit 
is  necessary  is  the  "glorification"  of  Christ.     Without 

VOL.  II,  14 


THE   GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 


Him  the  manifestation  of  Christ  will  be  lost.  He  is 
needed  to  secure  that  the  world  be  brought  into  contact 
with  Christ,  and  that  men  recognise  and  use  Him. 
This  is  the  most  general  and  comprehensive  aspect  of 
the  Spirit's  work  :  "  He  shall  glorify  Me "  (ver.  14). 
In  making  this  announcement  our  Lord  assumes  that 
position  of  commanding  importance  with  which  this 
Gospel  has  made  us  familiar.  The  Divine  Spirit  is  to 
be  sent  forth,  and  the  direct  object  of  His  mission 
is  the  glorifying  of  Christ,  The  meaning  of  Christ's 
manifestation's  the  essential  thing  for  men  to  under- 
stand. In  manifesting  Himself  He  has.  revealed  the 
Father.  He  has  in  His  own  person  shown  what  a 
Divine  nature  is ;  and  therefore  in  order  to  His  glori- 
fication all  that  is  required  is  that  light  be  shed  upon 
what  He  has  done  and  been,  and  that  the  eyes  of  men 
be  opened  to  see  Him  and  His  work.  The  recognition 
of  Christ  and  of  God  in  Him  is  the  blessedness  of  the 
human  race ;  and  to  bring  this  about  is  the  function  of 
the  Spirit,  As  Jesus  Himself  had  constantly  presented 
Himself  as  the  revealer  of  the  Father  and  as  speaking 
His  words,  so,  in  "a  rivalry  of  Divine  humility,"  the 
Spirit  glorifies  the  Son  and  speaks  "what  He  shall 
hear." 

To  discharge  this  function  a  twofold  ministry  is 
undertaken  by  the  Spirit :  He  must  enlighten  the 
Apostles,  and  He  must  convince  the  world. 

He  must  enlighten  the  Apostles.  From  the  nature 
of  the  case  much  had  to  be  left  unsaid  by  Christ. 
But  this  would  not  prevent  the  Apostles  from  under- 
standing what  Christ  had  done,  and  what  applications 
His  work  had  to  themselves  and  their  fellow-men.  "I 
have  yet  many  things  to  say  unto  you,  but  ye  cannot 
bear  them  now.     Howbeit  when  He,  the  Spirit  of  truth, 


XV.  i8— xvi.  15-]     THE  SPIRIT  CHRISTS   WITNESS.  2ii 

is  come,  He  will  guide  you  into  all  the  truth."  A  great 
untravelled  country  lay  before  them.  Their  Master 
had  led  them  across  its  border,  and  set  their  faces  in 
the  right  direction ;  but  who  was  to  find  a  way  for  them 
through  all  its  intricacies  and  perplexities  ?  The  Spirit 
of  truth,  He  who  is  Himself  perfect  knowledge  and 
absolute  light,  "  will  guide  you " ;  He  will  go  before 
you  and  show  you  your  way.^  There  may  be  no 
sudden  impartation  of  truth,  no  lifting  of  the  mist  that 
hangs  on  the  horizon,  no  consciousness  that  now  you 
have  mastered  all  difficulties  and  can  see  your  way 
to  the  end ;  there  may  be  no  violation  of  the  natural 
and  difficult  processes  by  which  men  arrive  at  truth ; 
the  road  may  be  slow,  and  sometimes  there  may  even 
be  an  appearance  of  ignominious  defeat  by  those  who 
use  swifter  but  more  precarious  means  of  advance  ; 
much  will  depend  on  your  own  patience  and  wakeful- 
ness and  docility ;  but  if  you  admit  the  Spirit,  He  will 
guide  you  into  all  the  truth. 

This  promise  does  not  involve  that  the  Apostles, 
and  through  them  all  disciples,  should  know  everything. 
"All  the  truth"  is  relative  to  the  subject  taught.  All 
that  they  need  to  know  regarding  Christ  and  His  work 
for  them  they  will  learn.  All  that  is  needed  to  glorify 
Christ,  to  enable  men  to  recognise  Him  as  the  mani- 
festation of  God,  will  be  imparted.  To  the  truth  which 
the  Apostles  learn,  therefore,  nothing  need  be  added. 
Nothing  essential  has  been  added.  Time  has  now 
been  given  to  test  this  promise,  and  what  time  has 
shown  is  this — that  while  libraries  have  been  written 
on  what  the  Apostles  thought  and  taught,  their  teaching 
remains  as  the  sufficient  guide  into  all  the  truth  regard- 

'  65riyt)cr€i. 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


ing  Christ.  Even  in  non-essentials  it  is  marvellous 
how  little  has  been  added.  Many  corrections  of  mis- 
apprehensions of  their  meaning  have  been  required, 
much  laborious  inquiry  to  ascertain  precisely  what 
they  meant,  much  elaborate  inference  and  many  build- 
ings upon  their  foundations;  but  in  their  teaching 
there  remain  a  freshness  and  a  living  force  which 
survive  all  else  that  has  been  written  upon  Christ  and 
His  religion. 

This  instruction  of  the  Apostles  by  the  Spirit  was 
to  recall  to  their  minds  what  Christ  Himself  had  said, 
and  was  also  to  show  them  things  to  come.  The 
changed  point  of  view  introduced  by  the  dispensation 
of  the  Spirit  and  the  abolition  of  earthly  hopes  would 
cause  many  of  the  sayings  of  Jesus  which  they  had 
disregarded  and  considered  uninteUigible  to  spring 
into  high  relief  and  ray  out  significance,  while  the 
future  also  would  shape  itself  quite  differently  in  their 
conception.  And  the  Teacher  who  should  superintend 
and  inspire  this  altered  attitude  of  mind  is  the  Spirit.^ 

Not  only  must  the  Spirit  enlighten  the  Apostles ;  He 
must  also  convince  the  world.  "  He  shall  bear  witness 
of  Me,"  and  by  His  witness-bearing  the  testimony  of 
the  Apostles  would  become  efficacious.  They  had  a 
natural  fitness  to  witness  about  Christ,  "  because  they 
had  been  with  Him  from  the  beginning."  No  more 
trustworthy  witnesses  regarding  what  Christ  had  said 
or  done  or  been  could  be  called  than  those  men  with 
whom  He  had  lived  on  terms  of  intimacy.  No  men 
could  more  certainly  testify  to  the  identity  of  the  risen 
Lord.     But  the  significance  of  the  facts  they  spoke  of 

'  Godet  says:  "The  saying  xiv.  26  gives  the  formula  of  the  in- 
spiration of  our  Gospels ;  ver.  13  gives  that  of  the  inspiration  of  the 
Epistles  and  the  Apocalypse." 


XV  i8— xvi.  15.]     THE  SPIRIT  CHRIST'S   WITNESS.  213 

could  best  be  taught  by  the  Spirit.  The  very  fact  of 
the  Spirit's  presence  was  the  greatest  evidence  that  the 
Lord  had  risen  and  was  using  "  all  power  in  heaven  " 
in  behalf  of  men.  And  possibly  it  was  to  this  Peter 
referred  when  he  said :  "  We  are  His  witnesses  of 
these  things  ;  and  so  is  also  the  Holy  Ghost,  whom 
God  hath  given  to  them  that  obey  Him,"  Certainly 
the  gifts  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  power  to  speak  with 
tongues  or  to  work  miracles  of  healing,  were  accepted 
by  the  primitive  Church  as  a  seal  of  the  Apostolic 
word  and  as  the  appropriate  evidence  of  the  power 
of  the  risen  Christ. 

But  it  is  apparent  from  our  Lord's  description  of 
the  subject-matter  of  the  Spirit's  witness  that  here  He 
has  especially  in  view  the  function  of  the  Spirit  as  an 
inward  teacher  and  strengthener  of  the  moral  powers. 
He  is  the  fellow-witness  of  the  Apostles,  mainly  and 
permanently,  by  enlightening  men  in  the  significance 
of  the  facts  reported  by  them,  and  by  opening  the 
heart  and  conscience  to  their  influence. 

The  subject-matter  of  the  Spirit's  testimony  is  three- 
fold :  "  He  will  convict  the  world  in  respect  of  sin,  and 
of  righteousness,  and  of  judgment." 

L  He  should  convict  the  world  of  sin.  No  con- 
viction cuts  so  deeply  and  produces  results  of  such 
magnitude  as  the  conviction  of  sin.  It  is  like  subsoil 
ploughing  :  it  turns  up  soil  that  nothing  else  has  got 
down  to.  It  alters  entirely  a  man's  attitude  towards 
life.  He  cannot  know  himself  a  sinner  and  be  satisfied 
with  that  condition.  This  awakening  is  like  the  waking 
of  one  who  has  been  buried  in  a  trance,  who  wakes  to 
find  himself  bound  round  with  grave-clothes,  hemmed 
in  with  all  the  insignia  of  corruption,  terror  and  revul- 
sion distracting  and  overwhelming  his  soul.     In  spirit 


214  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

he  has  been  far  away,  weaving  perhaps  a  paradise  out 
of  his  fancies,  peopling  it  with  choice  and  happy  society, 
and  living  through  scenes  of  gorgeous  beauty  and 
comfort  in  fulness  of  interest  and  life  and  felicity ;  but 
suddenly  comes  the  waking,  a  few  brief  moments  of 
painful  struggle  and  the  dream  gives  place  to  the  reality, 
and  then  comes  the  certain  accumulation  of  misery  till 
the  spirit  breaks  beneath  its  fear.  So  does  the  strongest 
heart  groan  and  break  when  it  wakes  to  the  full  reality 
of  sin,  when  the  Spirit  of  Christ  takes  the  veil  from  a 
man's  eyes  and  gives  him  to  see  what  this  world  is  and 
what  he  has  been  in  it,  when  the  shadows  that  have 
occupied  him  flee  away  and  the  naked  inevitable  reality 
confronts  him. 

Nothing  is  more  overwhelming  than  this  conviction, 
but  nothing  is  more  hopeful.  Given  a  man  who  is 
alive  to  the  evil  of  sin  and  who  begins  to  understand 
his  errors,  and  you  know  some  good  will  come  of  that. 
Given  a  man  who  sees  the  importance  of  being  in 
accord  with  perfect  goodness  and  who  feels  the  degra- 
dation of  sin,  and  you  have  the  germ  of  all  good  in  that 
man.  But  how  were  the  Apostles  to  produce  this  ?  how 
were  they  to  dispel  those  mists  which  blurred  the  clear 
outline  of  good  and  evil,  to  bring  to  the  self-righteous 
Pharisee  and  the  indifferent  and  worldly  Sadducee  a 
sense  of  their  own  sin  ?  What  instrument  is  there 
which  can  introduce  to  every  human  heart,  howsoever 
armoured  and  fenced  round,  this  healthy  revolution  ? 
Looking  at  men  as  they  actually  are,  and  considering 
how  many  forces  are  banded  together  to  exclude  the 
knowledge  of  sin,  how  worldly  interest  demands  that 
no  brand  shall  be  affixed  to  this  and  that  action,  how 
the  customs  we  are  brought  up  in  require  us  to  take 
a  lenient  view  of  this  and  that  immorality,  how  we 


XV.  i8— xvi.  15.]     THE  SPIRIT  CHRIST'S   WITNESS.         215 

deceive  ourselves  by  sacrificing  sins  we  do  not  care  for 
in  order  to  retain  sins  that  are  in  our  blood,  how  the 
resistance  of  certain  sins  makes  us  a  prey  to  self- 
righteousness  and  delusion — considering  what  we  have 
learnt  of  the  placidity  with  which  men  content  them- 
selves with  a  life  they  know  is  not  the  highest,  does 
there  seem  to  be  any  instrument  by  which  a  true  and 
humbhng  sense  of  sin  can  be  introduced  to  the  mind  ? 

Christ,  knowing  that  men  were  about  to  put  Him  to 
death  because  He  had  tried  to  convict  them  of  sin,  con- 
fidently predicts  that  His  servants  would  by  His  Spirit's 
aid  convince  the  world  of  sin  and  of  this  in  particular — 
that  they  had  not  believed  in  Him.  •  That  very  death 
which  chiefly  exhibits  human  sin  has,  in  fact,  become 
the  chief  instrument  in  making  men  understand  and 
hate  sin.  There  is  no  consideration  from  which  the 
deceitfulness  of  sin  will  not  escape,  nor  any  fear  which 
the  recklessness  of  sin  will  not  brave,  nor  any  authority 
which  self-will  cannot  override  but  only  this  :  Christ 
has  died  for  me,  to  save  me  from  my  sin,  and  I  am 
sinning  still,  not  regarding  His  blood,  not  meeting  His 
purpose.  It  was  when  the  greatness  and  the  goodness 
of  Christ  were  together  let  in  to  Peter's  mind  that  he 
fell  on  his  face  before  Him,  saying,  "  Depart  from  me,  O 
Lord,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man."  And  the  experience  of 
thousands  is  recorded  in  that  more  recent  confession  : 

"  In  evil  long  I  took  delight,  unawed  by  shame  or  fear, 
Till  a  new  object  struck  my  sight  and  stopped  my  wild  career  . 
I  saw  One  hanging  on  a  tree  in  agonies  and  blood, 
Who  fixed  His  languid  eyes  on  me  as  near  His  cross  I  stood. 
Sure  never  till  my  latest  breath  can  I  forget  that  look ; 
It  seemed  to  charge  me  with  His  death,  though  not  a  word  He 
spoke." 

Of  other  convictions  we  may  get  rid  ;  the  consequences 


2i6  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

of  sin  we  may  brave,  or  we  may  disbelieve  that  in  our 
case  sin  will  produce  any  very  disastrous  fruits ;  but  in 
the  death  of  Christ  we  see,  not  what  sin  may  possibly 
do  in  the  future,  but  what  it  actually  has  done  in  the 
past.  In  presence  of  the  death  of  Christ  we  cannot 
any  longer  make  a  mock  of  sin  or  think  lightly  of  it,  as 
if  it  were  on  our  own  responsibility  and  at  our  own 
risk  we  sinned. 

But  not  only  does  the  death  of  Christ  exhibit  the 
intricate  connections  of  our  sin  with  other  persons  and 
the  grievous  consequence  of  sin  in  general,  but  also  it 
-exhibits  the  enormity  of  this  particular  sin  of  rejecting 
Christ.  "  He  will  convince  the  world  of  sin,  because 
they  believe  not  on  Me."  It  was  this  sin  in  point  of  fact 
which  cut  to  the  heart  the  crowd  at  Jerusalem  first 
addressed  by  Peter.  Peter  had  nothing  to  say  of  their 
looseness  of  life,  of  their  worldliness,  of  their  covetous- 
ness :  he  did  not  go  into  particulars  of  conduct  calculated 
to  bring  a  blush  to  their  cheeks ;  he  took  up  but  one 
point,  and  by  a  few  convincing  remarks  showed  them 
the  enormity  of  crucifying  the  Lord  of  glory.  The  lips 
which  a  few  days  before  had  cried  out  "  Crucify  Him, 
crucify  Him  !"  now  cried.  Men  and  brethren,  what  shall 
we  do,  how  escape  from  the  crushing  condemnation  of 
mistaking  God's  image  for  a  criminal  ?  In  that  hour 
Christ's  words  were  fulfilled ;  they  were  convinced  of 
sin  because  they  believed  not  on  Him. 

This  is  ever  the  damning  sin — to  be  in  presence 
of  goodness  and  not  to  love  it,  to  see  Christ  and  to 
see  Him  with  unmoved  and  unloving  hearts,  to  hear 
His  call  without  response,  to  recognise  the  beauty  of 
holiness  and  yet  turn  away  to  lust  and  self  and  the 
world.  This  is  the  condemnation — that  light  is  come 
into  the  world  and  we  have  loved  darkness  rather  than 


xv.i8— xvi.  15.]     THE  SPIRIT  CHRISrS   WITNESS.  2I7 


the  light.  "If  I  had  not  come  and  spoken  unto  them, 
they  had  not  had  sin  :  but  now  they  have  no  cloke  for 
their  sin.  He  that  hateth  Me,  hateth  My  Father  also." 
To  turn  away  from  Christ  is  to  turn  away  from  absolute 
goodness.  It  is  to  show  that  however  much  we  may 
relish  certain  virtues  and  approve  particular  forms  of 
goodness,  goodness  absolute  and  complete  does  not 
attract  us. 

II.  The  conviction  of  righteousness  is  the  complement, 
the  other  half,  of  the  conviction  of  sin.  In  the  shame 
of  guilt  there  is  the  germ  of  the  conviction  of  righteous- 
ness. The  sense  of  guilt  is  but  the  acknowledgment 
that  we  ought  to  be  righteous.  No  guilt  attaches  to 
the  incapable.  The  sting  of  guilt  is  poisoned  with 
the  knowledge  that  we  were  capable  of  better  things. 
Conscience  exclaims  against  all  excuses  that  would 
lull  us  into  the  idea  that  sin  is  insuperable,  and  that 
there  is  nothing  better  for  us  than  a  moderately  sinful 
life.  When  conscience  ceases  to  condemn,  hope  dies. 
A  mist  rises  from  sin  that  obscures  the  clear  outline 
between  its  own  domain  and  that  of  righteousness,  like 
the  mist  that  rises  from  the  sea  and  mingles  shore  and 
water  in  one  undefined  cloud.  But  let  it  rise  off  the 
one  and  the  other  is  at  once  distinctly  marked  out ;  and 
so  in  the  conviction  of  sin  there  is  already  involved  the 
conviction  of  righteousness.  The  blush  of  shame  that 
suffuses  the  face  of  the  sinner  as  the  mist-dispelling 
Sun  of  righteousness  arises  upon  him  is  the  morning 
flush  and  promise  of  an  everlasting  day  of  righteous 
living. 

For  each  of  us  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  to  have 
a  fixed  and  intelligent  persuasion  that  righteousness 
is  what  we  are  made  for.  The  righteous  Lord  loveth 
righteousness  and  made  us  in  His  image  to  widen  the 


2iS  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

joy  of  rational  creatures.  He  waits  for  righteousness 
and  cannot  accept  sin  as  an  equally  grateful  fruit  of 
men's  lives.  And  though  in  the  main  perhaps  our  faces 
are  turned  towards  righteousness,  and  we  are  on  the 
whole  dissatisfied  and  ashamed  of  sin,  yet  the  conviction 
of  righteousness  has  much  to  struggle  against  in  us  all. 
Sin,  we  unconsciously  plead,  is  so  finely  interwoven 
with  all  the  ways  of  the  world  that  it  is  impossible  to 
live  wholly  free  from  it.  As  well  cast  a  sponge  into 
the  water  and  command  that  it  absorb  none  nor  sink 
as  put  me  in  the  world  and  command  that  I  do  not 
admit  its  influences  or  sink  to  its  level.  It  presses  in 
on  me  through  all  my  instincts  and  appetites  and  hopes 
and  fears ;  it  washes  ceaselessly  at  the  gateways  of  my 
senses,  so  that  one  unguarded  moment  and  the  torrent 
bursts  in  on  me  and  pours  over  my  wasted  bulwarks, 
resolves,  high  aims,  and  whatever  else.  It  is  surely  not 
now  and  here  that  I  am  expected  to  do  more  than  learn 
the  rudiments  of  righteous  living  and  make  small 
experiments  in  it ;  endeavours  will  surely  stand  for 
accomplishment,  and  pious  purposes  in  place  of  heroic 
action  and  positive  righteousness.  Men  take  sin  for 
granted  and  lay  their  account  for  it.  Will  not  God  also, 
who  remembers  our  frailty,  consider  the  circumstances 
and  count  sin  a  matter  of  course  ?  Such  thoughts 
haunt  and  weaken  us ;  but  every  man  whose  heart  is 
touched  by  the  Spirit  of  God  clings  to  this  as  his 
hopeful  prayer :  "  Teach  me  to  do  Thy  will,  for  Thou 
art  my  God :  Thy  Spirit  is  good  ;  lead  me  into  the  land 
of  uprightness." 

But,  after  all,  it  is  by  fact  men  are  convinced  ;  and 
were  there  no  facts  to  appeal  to  in  this  matter  conviction 
could  not  be  attained.  It  does  seem  that  we  are  made 
for  righteousness,  but  sin  is  in  this  world  so  universal 


XV.  i8— xvi.  15.]     THE  SPIRIT  CHRIST'S   WITNESS.  219 


that  there  must  surely  be  some  way  of  accounting  for 
it  which  shall  also  excuse  it.  Had  righteousness  been 
to  be  our  life,  surely  some  few  would  have  attained  it. 
There  must  be  some  necessity  of  sin,  some  impossi- 
bility of  attaining  perfect  righteousness,  and  therefore 
we  need  not  seek  it.  Here  comes  in  the  proof  our  Lord 
speaks  of:  "The  Spirit  will  convince  of  righteousness, 
because  I  go  to  the  Father,"  Righteousness  has  been 
attained.  There  has  lived  One,  bone  of  our  bone,  and 
flesh  of  our  flesh,  tempted  in  all  points  like  as  we  are, 
open  to  the  same  ambitious  views  of  life,  growing  up 
with  the  same  appetites  and  as  sensitive  to  bodily 
pleasure  and  bodily  pain,  feeling  as  keenly  the  neglect 
and  hatred  of  men,  and  from  the  very  size  of  His  nature 
and  width  of  His  sympathy  tempted  in  a  thousand  ways 
we  are  safe  from,  and  yet  in  no  instance  confounding 
right  and  wrong,  in  no  instance  falling  from  perfect 
harmony  with  the  Divine  will  to  self-will  and  self- 
seeking  ;  never  deferring  the  commandments  of  God  to 
some  other  sphere  or  w^aiting  for  holier  times;  never 
forgetting  and  never  renouncing  the  purpose  of  God 
in  His  life;  but  at  all  times,  in  weariness  and  lassitude, 
in  personal  danger  and  in  domestic  comfort,  putting 
Himself  as  a  perfect  instrument  into  God's  hand,  ready 
at  all  cost  to  Himself  to  do  the  Father's  will.  Here 
was  One  who  not  only  recognised  that  men  are  made 
to  work  together  with  God,  but  who  actually  did  so 
work  ;  who  not  only  approved,  as  we  all  approve,  of 
a  life  of  holiness  and  sacrifice,  but  actually  lived  it ; 
who  did  not  think  the  trial  too  great,  the  privation  and 
risk  too  dreadful,  the  self-effacement  too  humbling ;  but 
who  met  life  with  all  it  brings  to  all  of  us — its  conflict, 
its  interests,  its  opportunities,  its  allurements,  its  snares, 
its  hazards.     But  while  out  of  this  material  we  fail  to 


2io  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

• 

make  a  perfect  life,  He  by  His  integrity  of  purpose  and 
devotedness  and  love  of  good  fashioned  a  perfect  life. 
Thus  He  simply  by  living  accomplished  what  the  law 
with  its  commands  and  threats  had  not  accompHshed  : 
He  condemned  sin  in  the  flesh. 

But  it  was  open  to  those  whom  the  Apostles  addressed 
to  deny  that  Jesus  had  thus  lived ;  and  therefore  the 
conviction  of  righteousness  is  completed  by  the  evi- 
dence of  the  resurrection  and  ascension  of  Christ.  "  Of 
righteousness,  because  I  go  to  My  Father,  and  ye  see 
Me  no  more."  Without  holiness  no  man  shall  see  God. 
It  was  this  that  the  Apostles  appealed  to  when  first 
moved  to  address  their  fellow-men  and  proclaim  Christ 
as  the  Saviour.  It  was  to  His  resurrection  they  con- 
fidently appealed  as  evidence  of  the  truth  of  His  claim 
to  have  been  sent  of  God.  The  Jews  had  put  Him  to 
death  as  a  deceiver ;  but  God  proclaimed  His  righteous- 
ness by  raising  Him  from  the  dead.  "  Ye  denied  the 
Holy  One  and  the  Just,  and  desired  a  murderer  to 
be  granted  unto  you,  and  killed  the  Prince  of  life 
whom  God  hath  raised  from  the  dead,  whereof  we  are 
witnesses." 

Probably,  however,  another  idea  underlies  the  words 
"  because  I  go  to  My  Father,  and  ye  see  Me  no  more." 
So  long  as  Christ  was  on  earth  the  Jews  believed  that 
Jesus  and  His  followers  were  plotting  a  revolution  : 
when  He  was  removed  beyond  sight  such  a  suspicion 
became  ludicrous.  But  when  His  disciples  could  no 
longer  see  Him,  they  continued  to  serve  Him  and  to 
strive  with  greater  zeal  than  ever  to  promote  His  cause. 
Slowly  then  it  dawned  on  men's  minds  that  righteous- 
ness was  what  Christ  and  His  Apostles  alone  desired 
and  sought  to  establish  on  earth.  This  new  spectacle 
of  men    devoting  their  lives    to   the   advancement    of 


xv.i8— xvi.  15-]     THE  SPIRIT  CHRIST'S   WITNESS.  221 

righteousness,  and  confident  they  could  establish  a 
kingdom  of  righteousness  and  actually  establishing 
it — this  spectacle  penetrated  men's  minds,  and  gave 
them  a  new  sense  of  the  value  of  righteousness, 
and  quite  a  new  conviction  of  the  possibility  of 
attaining  it. 

III.  The  third  conviction  by  which  the  Apostles  were 
to  prevail  in  their  preaching  of  Christ  was  the  convic- 
tion "  of  judgment,  because  the  prince  of  this  world  is 
judged."  Men  were  to  be  persuaded  that  a  distinction 
is  made  between  sin  and  righteousness,  that  in  no  case 
can  sin  pass  for  righteousness  and  righteousness  for 
sin.  The  world  that  has  worldly  ends  in  view  and 
works  towards  them  by  appropriate  means,  disregard- 
ing moral  distinctions,  will  be  convicted  of  enormous 
error.  The  Spirit  of  truth  will  work  in  men's  minds 
the  conviction  that  all  and  every  sin  is  mistake  and 
productive  of  nothing  good,  and  can  in  no  instance 
accomplish  what  righteousness  would  have  accom- 
plished. Men  will  find,  when  truth  shines  in  their 
spirit,  that  they  have  not  to  await  a  great  day  of  judg- 
ment in  the  end,  when  the  good  results  of  sin  shall  be 
reversed  and  reward  allotted  to  those  who  have  done 
righteously,  but  that  judgment  is  a  constant  and  universal 
element  in  God's  government  and  to  be  found  every- 
where throughout  it,  distinguishing  between  sin  and 
righteousness  in  every  present  instance,  and  never  for 
one  moment  allowing  to  sin  the  value  or  the  results 
which  only  righteousness  has.  In  the  minds  of  men 
who  have  been  using  the  world's  unrighteous  methods 
and  living  for  the  world's  selfish  ends,  the  conviction 
is  to  be  wrought  that  no  good  can  come  of  all  that — 
that  sin  is  sin  and  not  valid  for  any  good  purpose. 
Men  are  to  recognise  that  a  distinction  is  made  between 


222  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

human  actions,  and  that  condemnation  is  pronounced  on 
all  that  are  sinful. 

And  this  conviction  is  to  be  wrought  in  the  light 
of  the  fact  that  in  Christ's  victory  the  prince  of  this 
world  is  judged.  The  powers  by  which  the  world  is 
actually  led  are  seen  to  be  productive  of  evil,  and  not 
the  powers  by  which  men  can  permanently  be  led  or 
should  at  any  time  have  been  led.  The  prince  of  this 
world  was  judged  by  Christ's  refusal  throughout  His 
life  to  be  in  anything  guided  by  him.  The  motives 
by  which  the  world  is  led  were  not  Christ's  motives. 

But  it  is  in  the  death  of  Christ  the  prince  of  this 
world  was  especially  judged.  That  death  was  brought 
about  by  the  world's  opposition  to  unworldliness.  Had 
the  world  been  seeking  spiritual  beauty  and  prosperity, 
Christ  would  not  have  been  crucified.  He  was  crucified 
because  the  world  was  seeking  material  gain  and 
worldly  glory,  and  was  thereby  blinded  to  the  highest 
form  of  goodness.  And  unquestionably  the  very  fact 
that  worldliness  led  to  this  treatment  of  Christ  is  its 
most  decided  condemnation.  We  cannot  think  highly 
of  principles  and  dispositions  which  so  blind  men  to 
the  highest  form  of  human  goodness  and  lead  them 
to  actions  so  unreasonable  and  wicked.  As  an  indi- 
vidual will  often  commit  one  action  which  illustrates 
his  whole  character,  and  flashes  sudden  light  into  the 
hidden  parts  of  it,  and  discloses  its  capabilities  and 
possible  results,  so  the  world  has  in  this  one  act 
shown  what  worldliness  essentially  is  and  at  all  times 
is  capable  of.  No  stronger  condemnation  of  the  influ- 
ences which  move  worldly  men  can  be  found  than  the 
crucifixion  of  Christ. 

But,  besides,  the  death  of  Christ  exhibits  in  so 
touching  a  form  the  largeness  and  power  of  spiritual 


XV.  i8— xvi.  15.]     THE  SPIRIT  CHRIST'S   WITNESS.  223 

beauty,  and  brings  so  vividly  home  to  the  heart  the 
charm  of  holiness  and  love,  that  here  more  than  any- 
where else  do  men  learn  to  esteem  beauty  of  character 
and  holiness  and  love  more  than  all  the  world  can 
yield  them.  We  feel  that  to  be  wholly  out  of  sympathy 
with  the  qualities  and  ideas  manifested  in  the  Cross 
would  be  a  pitiable  condition.  We  adopt  as  our  ideal 
the  kind  of  glory  there  revealed,  and  in  our  hearts 
condemn  the  opposed  style  of  conduct  that  the  world 
leads  to.  As  we  open  our  understanding  and  conscience 
to  the  meaning  of  Christ's  love  and  sacrifice  and  de- 
votedness  to  God's  will,  the  prince  of  this  world  is 
judged  and  condemned  within  us.  We  feel  that  to 
yield  to  the  powers  that  move  and  guide  the  world  is 
impossible  for  us,  and  that  we  must  give  ourselves  to 
this  Prince  of  holiness  and  spiritual  glory. 

In  point  of  fact  the  world  is  judged.  To  adhere  to 
worldly  motives  and  ways  and  ambitions  is  to  cling 
to  a  sinking  ship,  to  throw  ourselves  away  on  a  justly 
doomed  cause.  The  world  may  trick  itself  out  in  what 
delusive  splendours  it  may ;  it  is  judged  all  the  same, 
and  men  who  are  deluded  by  it  and  still  in  one  way 
or  other  acknowledge  the  prince  of  this  world  destroy 
themselves  and  lose  the  future. 

Such  was  the  promise  of  Christ  to  His  disciples. 
Is  it  fulfilled  in  us  ?  We  may  have  witnessed  in  others 
the  entrance  and  operation  of  convictions  which  to  all 
appearance  correspond  with  those  here  described.  We 
may  even  have  been  instrumental  in  producing  these 
convictions.  But  a  lens  of  ice  will  act  as  a  burning- 
glass,  and  itself  unmelted  will  fire  the  tinder  to  which 
it  transmits  the  rays.  And  perhaps  we  may  be  able  to 
say  with  much  greater  confidence  that  we  have  done 
good  than  that  we  are  good.     Convinced   of  sin  we 


224  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

may  be,  and  convinced  of  righteousness  we  may  be — 
so  far  at  least  as  to  feel  most  keenly  that  the  distinction 
between  sin  and  righteousness  is  real,  wide,  and  of 
eternal  consequence — but  is  the  prince  of  this  world 
judged  ?  has  the  power  that  claims  us  as  the  servants 
of  sin  and  mocks  our  strivings  after  righteousness  been, 
so  far  as  we  can  judge  from  our  own  experience, 
defeated  ?  For  this  is  the  final  test  of  religion,  of  our 
faith  in  Christ,  of  the  truth  of  His  words  and  the 
efficacy  of  His  work.  Does  He  accomplish  in  me  what 
He  promised  ? 

Now,  when  we  begin  to  doubt  the  efficacy  of  the 
Christian  method  on  account  of  its  apparent  failure  in 
our  own  case,  when  we  see  quite  clearly  how  it  ought 
to  work  and  as  clearly  that  it  has  not  worked,  when 
this  and  that  turns  up  in  our  life  and  proves  beyond 
controversy  that  we  are  ruled  by  much  the  same  motives 
and  desires  as  the  world  at  large,  two  subjects  of 
reflection  present  themselves.  First,  have  we  remem- 
bered the  word  of  Christ,  "  The  servant  is  not  greater 
than  his  Lord  "  ?  Are  we  so  anxious  to  be  His  ser- 
vants that  we  would  willingly  sacrifice  whatever  stood 
in  the  way  of  our  serving  Him  ?  Are  we  content  to 
be  as  He  was  in  the  world  ?  There  are  always  many 
in  the  Christian  Church  who  are,  first,  men  of  the  world, 
and,  secondly,  varnished  with  Christianity ;  who  do  not 
seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  His  righteousness  ; 
who  do  not  yet  understand  that  the  whole  of  life  must 
be  consecrated  to  Christ  and  spring  from  His  will,  and 
who  therefore  without  compunction  do  make  themselves 
greater  in  every  worldly  respect  than  their  professed 
Lord.  There  are  also  many  in  the  Christian  Church  at 
all  times  who  decline  to  make  more  of  this  world  than 
Christ  Himself  did,  and  whose  constant  study  it  is  to 


XV.  i8-xvi.  15.]     THE  SPIRIT  CHRIST'S   WITNESS.         225 

put  all  they  have  at  His  disposal.  Now,  we  cannot  too 
seriously  inquire  to  which  of  these  classes  we  belong. 
Are  we  making  a  bond-fide  thing  of  our  attachment  to 
Christ  ?  Do  we  feel  it  in  every  part  of  our  life  ?  Do 
we  strive,  not  to  minimise  our  service  and  His  claims, 
but  to  be  wholly  His  ?  Have  His  words,  "  The  servant 
is  not  greater  than  his  Lord,"  any  meaning  to  us  at  all  ? 
Is  His  service  truly  the  main  thing  we  seek  in  life  ? 
I  say  we  should  seriously  inquire  if  this  is  so ;  for 
not  hereafter,  but  now,  are  we  finally  determining  our 
relation  to  all  things  by  our  relation  to  Christ. 

But,  secondly,  we  must  beware  of  disheartening  our- 
selves by  hastily  concluding  that  in  our  case  Christ's 
grace  has  failed.  If  we  may  accept  the  Book  of 
Revelation  as  a  true  picture,  not  merely  of  the  conflict 
of  the  Church,  but  also  of  the  conflict  of  the  individual, 
then  only  in  the  end  can  we  look  for  quiet  and  achieved 
victory — only  in  the  closing  chapters  does  conflict 
cease  and  victory  seem  no  more  doubtful.  If  it  is  to 
be  so  with  us,  the  fact  of  our  losing  some  of  the  battles 
must  not  discourage  us  from  continuing  the  campaign. 
Nothing  is  more  painful  and  humbling  than  to  find 
ourselves  falling  into  unmistakable  sin  after  much 
concernment  with  Christ  and  His  grace ;  but  the  very 
resentment  we  feel  and  the  deep  and  bitter  humiliation 
must  be  used  as  incentive  to  further  effort,  and  must  not 
be  allowed  to  sound  permanent  defeat  and  surrender 
to  sin. 


VOL.    IK  Ig 


XV. 

LAST  WORDS. 


227 


"  A  little  while,  and  ye  behold  Me  no  more  ;  and  again  a  little  while, 
and  ye  shall  see  Me.  Some  of  His  disciples  therefore  said  one  to 
another,  What  is  this  that  He  saith  unto  us,  A  little  while,  and  ye 
behold  Me  not ;  and  again  a  little  while,  and  ye  shall  see  Me  :  and, 
Because  I  go  to  the  Father  ?  They  said  therefore.  What  is  this  that 
He  saith,  A  little  while?  We  know  not  what  He  saith.  Jesus  per- 
ceived that  they  were  desirous  to  ask  Him,  and  He  said  unto  them. 
Do  ye  inquire  among  yourselves  concerning  this,  that  I  said,  A  little 
while,  and  ye  behold  Me  not,  and  again  a  little  while,  and  ye  shall  see 
Me?  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  that  ye  shall  weep  and  lament, 
but  the  world  shall  rejoice :  ye  shall  be  sorrowful,  bat  your  sorrow 
shall  be  turned  into  joy.  A  woman  when  she  is  in  travail  hath  sorrow, 
because  her  hour  is  come :  but  when  she  is  delivered  of  the  child,  she 
remembereth  no  more  the  anguish,  for  the  joy  that  a  man  is  born 
into  the  world.  And  ye  therefore  now  have  sorrow:  but  I  will  see 
you  again,  and  your  heart  shall  rejoice,  and  your  joy  no  one  taketh 
away  from  you.  And  in  that  day  ye  shall  ask  Me  nothing.  Verily, 
verily,  I  say  unto  you,  If  ye  shall  ask  anything  of  the  Father,  He  will 
give  it  you  in  My  name.  Hitherto  have  ye  asked  nothing  in  My  name  : 
ask,  and  ye  shall  receive,  that  your  joy  may  be  fulfilled.  These  things 
have  I  spoken  unto  you  in  proverbs :  the  hour  cometh,  when  I  shall 
no  more  speak  unto  you  in  proverbs,  but  shall  tell  you  plainly  of  the 
Father.  In  that  day  ye  shall  ask  in  My  name  :  and  I  say  not  unto  you, 
that  I  will  pray  the  Father  for  you  ;  for  the  Father  Himself  loveth  you, 
because  ye  have  loved  Me,  and  have  believed  that  I  came  forth  from 
the  Father.  I  came  out  from  the  Father,  and  am  come  into  the  world  : 
again,  I  leave  the  world,  and  go  unto  the  Father.  His  disciples  say, 
Lo,  now  speakest  Thou  plainly,  and  speakest  no  proverb.  Now  know 
we  that  Thou  knowest  all  things,  and  needest  not  that  any  man  should 
ask  Thee  :  by  this  we  believe  that  Thou  camest  forth  from  God.  Jesus 
answered  them,  Do  ye  now  believe?  Behold,  the  hour  cometh,  yea, 
is  come,  that  ye  shall  be  scattered,  every  man  to  his  own,  and  shall 
leave  Me  alone :  and  yet  I  am  not  alone,  because  the  Father  is  with 
Me.  These  things  have  I  spoken  unto  you,  that  in  Me  ye  may  have 
peace.  In  the  world  ye  have  tribulation:  but  be  of  good  cheer;  I 
have  overcome  the  world." — ^JoHN  xvi.  16-33. 


228 


XV. 

LAST   WORDS. 

IN  the  intercourse  of  Jesus  with  His  disciples  He  at 
all  times  showed  one  of  the  most  delightful  qualities 
of  a  friend — a  quick  and  perfect  apprehension  of  what 
was  passing  in  their  mind.  They  did  not  require  to 
bring  their  mental  condition  before  Him  by  laboured 
explanations.  He  knew  what  was  in  man,  and  He 
especially  knew  what  was  in  them.  He  could  forecast 
the  precise  impression  which  His  announcements  would 
make  upon  them,  the  doubts  and  the  expectations  they 
would  give  rise  to.  Sometimes  they  were  surprised  at 
this  insight,  always  they  profited  by  it.  In  fact,  on 
more  occasions  than  one  this  insight  convinced  them 
that  Jesus  had  this  clear  knowledge  of  men  given  to 
Him  that  He  might  effectually  deal  with  all  men.  It 
seemed  to  them,  as  of  course  it  is,  one  of  the  essential 
equipments  of  One  who  is  to  be  a  real  centre  for  the 
whole  race  and  to  bring  help  to  each  and  all  men. 
How  could  a  person  who  was  deficient  in  this  uni- 
versal sympathy  and  practical  understanding  of  the 
very  thoughts  of  each  of  us  offer  himself  as  our  helper? 
There  is  therefore  evidence  in  the  life  of  Jesus  that 
He  was  never  non-plussed,  never  at  a  loss  to  under- 
stand the  kind  of  man  He  had  to  do  with.  There  is 
evidence  of  this,  and  it  would  seem  that  we  all  receive 

229 


THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


this  evidence ;  for  are  we  not  conscious  that  our  spiritual 
condition  is  understood,  our  thoughts  traced,  our  diffi- 
culties sympathised  with  ?  We  may  feel  very  unlike 
many  prominent  Christians  ;  we  may  have  no  sympathy 
with  a  great  deal  that  passes  for  Christian  sentiment ; 
but  Christ's  sympathy  is  universal,  and  nothing  human 
comes  wrong  to  Him.  Begin  with  Him  as  you  are, 
without  professing  to  be,  though  hoping  to  be,  different 
from  what  you  are,  and  by  the  growth  of  your  own 
spirit  in  the  sunshine  of  His  presence  and  under  the 
guidance  of  His  intelligent  sympathy  your  doubts  will 
pass  away,  your  ungodliness  be  renounced.  He  is 
offered  for  your  help  as  the  essential  condition  of  your 
progress  and  your  growth. 

Seeing  the  perplexity  which  certain  of  His  expres- 
sions had  created  in  the  minds  of  His  disciples.  He 
proceeds  to  remove  it.  They  had  great  need  of 
hopefulness  and  courage,  and  He  sought  to  inspire 
them  with  these  qualities.  They  were  on  the  edge  of  a 
most  bitter  experience,  and  it  was  of  untold  consequence 
that  they  should  be  upheld  in  it.  He  does  not  hide 
from  them  the  coming  distress,  but  He  reminds  them 
that  very  commonly  pain  and  anxiety  accompany  the 
birth-throes  of  a  new  life ;  and  if  they  found  themselves 
shortly  in  depression  and  grief  which  seemed  incon- 
solable, they  were  to  believe  that  this  was  the  path  to 
a  new  and  higher  phase  of  existence  and  to  a  joy  that 
would  be  lasting.  Your  grief.  He  says,  will  shortly 
end  :  your  joy  never.  Your  grief  will  soon  be  taken 
away  :  your  joy  no  one  shall  take  away.  When  Christ 
rose  again,  the  disciples  remembered  and  understood 
these  words  ;  and  a  few  chapters  further  on  we  find 
John  returning  upon  the  word  and  saying,  "  When 
they  saw  the  Lord,   they  were  glad," — they  had  this 


xvi.  16-33.]  LAST   WORDS.  231 

joy.  It  was  a  joy  to  them,  because  love  for  Christ  and 
hope  in  Him  were  their  dominant  feehngs.  They  had 
the  joy  of  having  their  Friend  again,  of  seeing  Him 
victorious  and  proved  to  be  all  and  more  than  they 
had  believed.  They  had  the  first  glowing  visions  of  a 
new  world  for  which  the  preparation  was  the  life  and 
resurrection  of  the  Son  of  God.  What  were  they  not 
prepared  to  hope  for  as  the  result  of  the  immeasurably 
great  things  they  had  themselves  seen  and  known  ? 
It  was  a  mere  question  now  of  Christ's  will :  of  His 
power  they  were  assured. 

The  resurrection  of  Christ  was,  however,  meant  to 
bring  lasting  joy,  not  to  these  men  only,  but  to  all. 
These  greatest  of  all  events,  the  descent  to  earth  of 
the  Son  of  God  with  all  Divine  power  and  love,  and 
His  resurrection  as  the  conqueror  of  all  that  bars  the 
path  of  men  from  a  life  of  light  and  joy,  became  solid 
facts  in  this  world's  history,  that  all  men  might  calculate 
their  future  by  such  a  past,  and  might  each  for  himself 
conclude  that  a  future  of  which  such  events  are  the 
preparation  must  be  great  and  happy  indeed.  Death, 
if  not  in  all  respects  the  most  desolating,  is  the  most 
certain  of  all  human  ills.  Anguish  and  mourning  it 
has  brought  and  will  bring  to  many  human  hearts. 
Do  what  we  will  we  cannot  save  our  friends  from  it ; 
by  us  it  is  unconquerable.  Yet  it  is  in  this  most 
calamitous  of  human  ills  God  has  shown  His  nearness 
and  His  love.  It  is  to  the  death  of  Christ  men  look 
to  see  the  full  brightness  of  God's  fatherly  love.  It  is 
this  darkest  point  of  human  experience  that  God  has 
chosen  to  irradiate  with  His  absorbing  glory.  Death 
is  at  once  our  gravest  fear  and  the  spring  of  our  hope ; 
it  cuts  short  human  intercourse,  but  in  the  cross  of 
Christ    it    gives    us    a    never-failing,    divinely   loving 


232  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

Friend.  The  death  of  Christ  is  the  great  compensation 
of  all  the  ill  that  death  has  brought  into  human  life ; 
and  when  we  see  death  made  the  medium  of  God's 
clearest  manifestation,  we  are  almost  grateful  to  it  for 
affording  material  for  an  exhibition  of  God's  love  which 
transforms  all  our  own  life  and  all  our  own  hopes. 

Lasting  joy  is  the  condition  in  which  God  desires 
us  to  be,  and  He  has  given  us  cause  of  joy.  In  Christ's 
victory  we  see  all  that  is  needed  to  give  us  hopefulness 
about  the  future.  Each  man  finds  for  himself  assur- 
ance of  God's  interest  in  us  and  in  our  actual  condition  : 
assurance  that  whatever  is  needful  to  secure  for  us  a 
happy  eternity  has  been  done ;  assurance  that  in  a  new 
heavens  and  a  new  earth  we  shall  find  lasting  satisfac- 
tion. This  true,  permanent,  all-embracing  joy  is  open 
to  all,  and  is  actually  enjoyed  by  those  who  have  some- 
thing of  Christ's  Spirit,  whose  chief  desire  is  to  see 
holiness  prevail  and  to  keep  themselves  and  others  in 
harmony  with  God.  To  such  the  accomplishment  of 
God's  will  seems  a  certainty,  and  they  have  learned  that 
the  accomplishment  of  that  will  means  good  to  them 
and  to  all  who  love  God.  The  holiness  and  harmony 
with  God  that  win  this  joy  are  parts  of  it.  To  be  the 
friends  of  Christ,  imbued  with  His  views  of  life  and 
of  God,  this  from  first  to  last  is  a  thing  of  joy. 

That  which  the  disciples  at  length  believed  and  felt 
to  be  the  culmination  of  their  faith  was  that  Jesus  had 
come  forth  from  God.  He  Himself  more  fully  expresses 
what  He  desired  them  to  believe  about  Him  in  the 
words  :  "  I  came  forth  from  the  Father,  and  am  come 
into  the  world  :  again  I  leave  the  world,  and  go  to  the 
Father."  No  doubt  there  is  a  sense  in  which  any  man 
may  use  this  language  of  himself.  We  can  all  truth- 
fully say  we  came  forth  from  God  and  came  into  the 


xvi.  i6-33.]  t.AST  WORDS.  233 

world  ;  and  we  pass  out  from  the  world  and  return  to 
God.  But  that  the  disciples  did  not  understand 'the 
words  in  this  sense  is  obvious  from  the  difficulty  they 
found  in  reaching  this  belief.  Had  Jesus  merely  meant 
that  it  was  true  of  Him,  as  of  all  others,  that  God  is 
the  great  existence  out  of  whom  we  spring  and  to  whom 
we  return,  the  disciples  could  have  found  no  difficulty 
and  the  Jews  must  all  have  believed  in  Him.  In  some 
special  and  exceptional  sense,  then.  He  came  forth  from 
God.     What,  then,  was  this  sense  ? 

When  Nicodemus  came  to  Jesus,  he  addressed  Him 
as  a  teacher  "come  from  God,"  because,  he  added,  "  no 
man  can  do  these  miracles  which  Thou  doest  except 
God  be  with  Him."  In  Nicodemus'  lips,  therefore,  the 
words  "a  teacher  come  from  God"  meant  a  teacher 
with  a  Divine  mission  and  credentials.  In  this  sense 
all  the  prophets  were  teachers  "come  from  God."  And 
accordingly  many  careful  readers  of  the  Gospels  believe 
that  nothing  more  than  this  is  meant  by  any  of  those 
expressions  our  Lord  uses  of  Himself,  as  "  sent  from 
God,"  "come  forth  from  God,"  and  so  on.  The  only 
distinction,  it  is  supposed,  between  Christ  and  other 
prophets  is  that  He  is  more  highly  endowed,  is  com- 
missioned and  equipped  as  God's  representative  in  a 
more  perfect  degree  than  Moses  or  Samuel  or  Elijah. 
He  had  their  power  to  work  miracles,  their  authority 
in  teaching;  but  having  a  more  important  mission  to 
accomplish,  He  had  this  power  and  authority  more 
fully.  Now,  it  is  quite  certain  that  some  of  the  expres- 
sions which  a  careless  reader  might  think  conclusive 
in  proof  of  Christ's  divinity  were  not  intended  to 
express  anything  more  than  that  He  was  God's  com- 
missioner. Indeed,  it  is  remarkable  how  He  Himself 
seems  to  wish  men  to  believe  this  above  all  else — that 


234  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

He  was  sent  by  God.  In  reading  the  Gospel  of  John 
one  is  tempted  to  say  that  Jesus  almost  intentionally 
avoids  affirming  His  divinity  explicitly  and  directly 
when  there  seemed  opportunity  to  do  so.  Certainly 
His  main  purpose  was  to  reveal  the  Father,  to  bring 
men  to  understand  that  His  teaching  about  God  was 
true,  and  that  He  was  sent  by  God. 

There  are,  however,  some  expressions  which  unques- 
tionably affirm  Christ's  pre-existence,  and  convince  us 
that  before  He  appeared  in  this  world  He  lived  with 
God.  And  among  these  expressions  the  words  He 
uses  in  this  passage  hold  a  place :  "  I  came  forth  from 
the  Father,  and  am  come  into  the  world  :  again,  I  leave 
the  world,  and  go  to  the  Father."  These  words,  the 
disciples  felt,  lifted  a  veil  from  their  eyes  ;  they  told 
Him  at  once  that  they  found  an  explicitness  in  this 
utterance  which  had  been  a-wanting  in  others.  And, 
indeed,  nothing  could  be  more  explicit :  the  two  parts 
of  the  sentence  balance  and  interpret  one  another. 
"  I  leave  the  world,  and  go  to  the  Father,"  interprets 
"  I  came  forth  from  the  Father,  and  am  come  into  the 
world."  To  say  "  I  leave  the  world  "  is  not  the  same 
as  to  say  "  I  go  to  the  Father  "  :  this  second  clause 
describes  a  state  of  existence  which  is  entered  upon 
when  existence  in  this  world  is  done.  And  to  say  "  I 
came  forth  from  the  Father  "  is  not  the  same  as  to  say 
"  I  came  into  the  world "  ;  it  describes  a  state  of 
existence  antecedent  to  that  which  began  by  coming 
into  the  world. 

Thus  the  Apostles  understood  the  words,  and  felt 
therefore  that  they  had  gained  a  new  platform  of  faith. 
This  they  felt  to  be  plain-speaking,  meant  to  be  under- 
stood. It  so  precisely  met  their  craving  and  gave  them 
the  knowledge   they  sought,  that  they  felt  more  than 


xvi.  16-33.]  LAST  WORDS.  235 

ever  Christ's  insight  into  their  state  of  mind  and  His 
power  to  satisfy  their  minds.  At  length  they  are  able 
to  say  with  assurance  that  He  has  come  forth  from 
God.  They  are  persuaded  that  behind  what  they  see 
there  is  a  higher  nature,  and  that  in  Christ's  presence 
they  are  in  the  presence  of  One  whose  origin  is  not  of 
this  world. .  It  was  this  pre-existence  of  Christ  with 
God  which  gave  the  disciples  assurance  regarding  all 
He  taught  them.  He  spoke  of  what  He  had  seen  with 
the  Father. 

This  belief,  however,  assured  though  it  was,  did  not 
save  them  from  a  cowardly  desertion  of  Him  whom 
they  believed  to  be  God's  representative  on  earth. 
They  would,  when  confronted  with  the  world's  authori- 
ties and  powers,  abandon  their  Master  to  His  fate,  and 
"would  leave  Him  alone."  He  had  always,  indeed, 
been  alone.  All  men  who  wish  to  carry  out  some 
novel  design  or  accomplish  some  extensive  reform  must 
be  prepared  to  stand  alone,  to  listen  unmoved  to 
criticism,  to  estimate  at  their  real  and  very  low  value 
the  prejudiced  calumnies  of  those  whose  interests  are 
opposed  to  their  design.  They  must  be  prepared  to 
live  without  reward  and  without  sympathy,  strong  in 
the  consciousness  of  their  own  rectitude  and  that  God 
will  prosper  the  right.  Jesus  enjoyed  the  affection  of 
a  considerable  circle  of  friends  ;  He  was  not  without 
the  comfort  and  strength  which  come  of  being  believed 
in  ;  but  in  regard  to  His  purpose  in  life  He  was  always 
alone.  And  yet,  unless  He  won  men  over  to  His  views, 
unless  He  made  some  as  ardent  as  Himself  regarding 
them.  His  work  was  lost.  This  was  the  special 
hardship  of  Christ's  solitariness.  Those  whom  He 
had  gathered  were  to  desert  Him  in  the  critical  hour ; 
but  the  sore  part  of  this  desertion  was  that  they  were 


236  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

to  go  "  each  to  his  own " — oblivious,  that  is  to  say, 
of  the  great  cause  in  which  they  had  embarked  with 
Christ. 

At  all  times  this  is  the  problem  Christ  has  to  solve  : 
how  to  prevail  upon  men  to  look  at  life  from  His  point 
of  view,  to  forget  their  own  things  and  combine  with 
Him,  to  be  as  enamoured  of  His  cause  as  He  Himself 
is.  He  looks  now  upon  us  with  our  honest  professions 
of  faith  and  growing  regard,  and  He  says  :  Yes,  you 
believe ;  but  you  scatter  each  to  his  own  at  the  slightest 
breath  of  danger  or  temptation.  This  scattering,  each 
to  his  own,  is  that  which  thwarts  Christ's  purpose  and 
imperils  His  work.  The  world  with  its  enterprises 
and  its  gains,  its  glitter  and  its  glory,  its  sufficiency 
for  the  present  life,  comes  in  and  tempts  us ;  and  apart 
from  the  common  good,  we  have  each  our  private 
schemes  of  advantage.  And  yet  there  is  nothing  more 
certain  than  that  our  ultimate^'advantage  is  measured 
by  the  measure  in  which  we  throw  in  our  lot  with  Christ 
— by  the  measure  in  v/hich  we  practically  recognise 
that  there  is  an  object  for  which  all  men  in  common 
can  work,  and  that  to  scatter  **  each  to  his  own  "  is  to 
resign  the  one  best  hope  of  life,  the  one  satisfying  and 
remunerative  labour. 

In  revealing  what  sustained  Himself  Christ  reveals 
the  true  stay  of  every  soul  of  man.  His  trial  was 
indeed  severe.  Brought  without  a  single  friend  to  the 
bar  of  unsympathetic  and  unscrupulous  judges  :  the 
Friend  of  man,  loving  as  no  other  has  ever  loved,  and 
craving  love  and  sympathy  as  no  other  has  craved 
it,  yet  standing  without  one  pitying  eye,  without  one 
voice  raised  in  His  favour.  Alone  in  a  world  He  came 
to  convince  and  to  win  ;  at  the  end  of  His  life,  spent 
in  winning  men,  left  without  one  to  say  He  had  not 


xvi.  16-33.]  LAST  WORDS.  237 

lived  in  vain ;  abandoned  to  enemies,  to  ignorant,  cruel, 
profane  men.  He  was  dragged  through  the  streets 
where  He  had  spoken  words  of  life  and  healed  the  sick, 
but  no  rescue  was  attempted.  So  outcast  from  all 
human  consideration  was  He,  that  a  Barabbas  found 
friendly  voices  where  He  found  none.  Hearing  the 
suborned  witnesses  swear  His  life  away.  He  heard  at 
the  same  time  His  boldest  disciple  deny  that  he  knew 
any  person  of  the  name  of  Jesus.  But  through  this 
abandonment  He  knew  the  Father's  presence  was  with 
Him.  "  I  am  not  alone,  because  the  Father  is  with 
Me." 

Times  which  in  their  own  degree  try  us  with  the 
same  sense  of  solitariness  come  upon  us  all.  All  pain 
is  solitary ;  you  must  bear  it  alone  :  kind  friends  may 
be  round  you,  but  they  cannot  bear  one  pang  for  you. 
You  feel  how  separate  and  individual  an  existence  you 
have  when  your  body  is  racked  with  pain  and  healthy 
people  are  by  your  side  ;  and  you  feel  it  also  when 
you  visit  some  pained  or  sorrowing  person  and  sit 
silently  in  their  presence,  feeling  that  the  suffering  is 
theirs  and  that  they  must  bear  it.  We  should  not 
brood  much  over  any  apparent  want  of  recognition  we 
may  meet  with  ;  all  such  brooding  is  unwholesome  and 
weak.  Many  of  our  minor  sufferings  we  do  best  to 
keep  to  ourselves  and  say  nothing  about  them.  Let 
us  strive  to  show  sympathy,  and  we  shall  feel  less  the 
pain  of  not  having  it.  To  a  large  extent  every  one 
must  be  alone  in  life — forming  his  own  views  of  things, 
working  out  his  own  idea  of  life,  conquering  his  own 
sins,  and  schooHng  his  own  heart.  And  every  one  is 
more  or  less  misunderstood  even  by  his  most  intimate 
friends.  He  finds  himself  congratulated  on  occurrences 
which  are  no  joy  to  him,  applauded  for  successes  he 


238  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

is  ashamed  of;  the  very  kindnesses  of  his  friends 
reveal  to  him  how  httle  they  understand  his  nature. 
But  all  this  will  not  deeply  affect  a  healthy-minded 
man,  who  recognises  that  he  is  in  the  world  to  do 
good,  and  who  is  not  always  craving  applause  and 
recognition. 

But  there  are  occasional  times  in  which  the  want  of 
sympathy  is  crushingly  felt.  Some  of  the  most  painful 
and  enduring  sorrows  of  the  human  heart  are  of  a  kind 
which  forbid  that  they  be  breathed  to  the  nearest 
friend.  Even  if  others  know  that  they  have  fallen 
upon  us  they  cannot  allude  to  them  ;  and  very  often 
they  are  not  even  known.  And  there  are  times  even 
more  trying,  when  we  have  not  only  to  bear  a  sorrow 
or  an  anxiety  all  our  own,  but  when  we  have  to  adopt 
a  line  of  conduct  which  exposes  us  to  misunderstand- 
ing, and  to  act  continuously  in  a  manner  which  shuts 
us  off  from  the  sympathy  of  our  friends.  Our  friends 
remonstrate  and  advise,  and  we  feel  that  their  advice 
is  erroneous  :  we  are  compelled  to  go  our  own  way 
and  bear  the  charge  of  obstinacy  and  even  of  cruelty ; 
for  sometimes,  like  Abraham  offering  Isaac,  we  cannot 
satisfy  conscience  without  seeming  to  injure  or  actually 
injuring  those  we  love. 

It  is  in  times  like  these  that  our  faith  is  tested.  We 
gain  a' firmer  hold  of  God  than  ever  before  when  we 
in  actual  life  prefer  His  countenance  and  fellowship  to 
the  approbation  and  good-will  of  our  friends.  When 
in  order  to  keep  conscience  clean  we  dare  to  risk  the 
good- will  of  those  we  depend  upon  for  affection  and 
for  support,  our  faith  becomes  a  reality  and  rapidly 
matures.  For  a  time  we  may  seem  to  have  rendered 
ourselves  useless,  and  to  have  thrown  ourselves  out  of 
all  profitable  relations  to  our  fellow-men  :  we  may  be 


xvi.  16-33]  LAST  WORDS.  239 

shunned,  and  our  opinions  and  conduct  may  be  con- 
demned, and  the  object  we  had  in  view  may  seem  to 
be  further  off  than  ever ;  but  such  was  the  experience 
of  Christ  also,  till  even  He  was  forced  to  cry  out,  not 
only  Why  have  ye,  My  friends,  forsaken  Me?  but  "My 
God,  why  hast  Thou  forsaken  Me?"  But  as  in  His 
case,  so  in  ours — this  is  only  the  natural  and  necessary 
path  to  the  perfect  justification  of  ourselves  and  of  the 
principles  our  conduct  has  represented.  If  in  obedience 
to  conscience  we  are  exposed  to  isolation  and  the 
various  loss  consequent  upon  it,  we  are  not  alone — 
God  is  with  us.  It  is  in  the  line  of  our  conduct  He  is 
working  and  will  carry  out  His  purposes.  And  well 
might  such  an  one  be  envied  by  those  who  have  feared 
such  isolation  and  shrunk  from  the  manifold  wretched- 
ness that  comes  of  resisting  the  world's  ways  and 
independently  following  an  unworldly  and  Christian 
path. 

For  really  in  our  own  life,  as  in  the  life  of  Christ, 
all  is  summed  up  in  the  conflict  between  Christ  and 
the  world  ;  and  therefore  the  last  words  of  this  His 
last  conversation  are :  "  In  the  world  ye  shall  have 
tribulation  :  but  be  of  good  courage.  I  have  overcome 
the  world."  When  Christ  speaks  of  "  the  world "  as 
comprising  all  that  was  opposed  to  Him,  it  is  not 
difficult  to  understand  His  meaning.  By  "  the  world  " 
we  sometimes  mean  the  earth  ;  sometimes  all  external 
things,  sun,  moon,  and  stars  as  well  as  this  earth  ; 
sometimes  we  mean  the  world  of  men,  as  when  we 
say  "  All  the  world  knows "  such  and  such  a  thing, 
or  as  when  Christ  said  "  God  so  loved  the  world  that 
He  gave  His  only-begotten  Son."  But  much  more 
commonly  Christ  uses  it  to  denote  all  in  the  present 
state   of  things  which    opposes    God   and    leads    man 


240  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

away  from  God.  We  speak  of  worldliness  as  fatal  to 
the  spirit,  because  worldliness  means  preference  for 
what  is  external  and  present  to  what  is  inward  and 
both  present  and  future.  Worldliness  means  attach- 
ment to  things  as  they  are — to  the  ways  of  society, 
to  the  excitements,  the  pleasures,  the  profits,  of  the 
present.  It  means  surrender  to  what  appeals  to  the 
sense — to  comfort  to  vanity,  to  ambition,  to  love  of 
display.  Worldliness  is  the  spirit  which  uses  the 
present  world  without  reference  to  the  lasting  and 
spiritual  purposes  for  the  sake  of  which  men  are  in 
this  world.  It  ignores  what  is  eternal  and  what  is 
spiritual ;  it  is  satisfied  with  present  comfort,  with 
what  brings  present  pleasure,  with  what  ministers  to 
the  beauty  of  this  present  life,  to  the  material  pros- 
perity of  men.  And  no  soul  whatsoever  or  whereso- 
ever situated  can  escape  the  responsibility  of  making 
his  choice  between  the  world  and  God.  To  each  of 
us  the  question  which  determines  all  else  is,  Am  I 
to  live  for  ends  which  find  their  accomplishment  in 
this  present  life,  or  for  ends  which  are  eternal  ?  Am 
I  to  live  so  as  to  secure  the  utmost  of  comfort,  of  ease, 
of  money,  of  reputation,  of  domestic  enjoyment,  of  the 
good  things  of  this  present  world  ?  or  am  I  to  live  so 
as  to  do  the  most  I  can  for  the  forwarding  of  God's 
purposes  with  men,  for  the  forwarding  of  spiritual 
and  eternal  good  ?  There  is  no  man  who  is  not 
living  for  one  or  other  of  these  ends.  Two  men 
enter  the  same  office  and  transact  the  same  business ; 
but  the  one  is  worldly,  the  other  Christian  :  two  men 
do  the  same  work,  use  the  same  material,  draw  the 
same  salary ;  but  one  cherishes  a  spiritual  end,  the 
other  a  worldly, — the  one  works,  always  striving  to 
serve    God  and  his  fellows,  the  other  has  nothing  in 


16-33]  LAST   WORDS. 


view  but  himself  and  his  own  interests.  Two  women 
live  in  the  same  street,  have  children  at  the  same 
school,  dress  very  much  alike;  but  you  cannot  know 
them  long  without  perceiving  that  the  one  is  worldly, 
with  her  heart  set  on  position  and  earthly  advance- 
ment for  her  children,  while  the  other  is  unworldly 
and  prays  that  her  children  may  learn  to  conquer  the 
world  and  to  live  a  stainless  and  self-sacrificing  life 
though  it  be  a  poor  one.  This  is  the  determining 
probation  of  life  ;  this  it  is  which  determines  what  we 
are  and  shall  be.  We  are,  every  one  of  us,  living 
either  with  the  world  as  our  end  or  for  God.  The 
difficulty  of  choosing  rightly  and  abiding  by  our  choice 
is  extreme :  no  man  has  ever  found  it  easy ;  for 
every  man  it  is  a  sufficient  test  of  his  reality,  of  his 
dependence  on  principle,  of  his  moral  clear-sightedness, 
of  his  strength  of  character. 

Therefore  Christ,  as  the  result  of  all  His  work, 
announces  that  He  has  "overcome  the  world."  And 
on  the  ground  of  this  conquest  of  His  He  bids  His 
followers  rejoice  and  take  heart,  as  if  somehow  His 
conquest  of  the  world  guaranteed  theirs,  and  as  if 
their  conflict  would  be  easier  on  account  of  His.  And 
so  indeed  it  is.  Not  only  has  every  one  now  who 
proposes  to  Hve  for  high  and  unworldly  ends  the 
satisfaction  of  knowing  that  such  a  life  is  possible, 
and  not  only  has  he  the  vast  encouragement  of  know- 
ing that  One  has  passed  this  way  before  and  attained 
His  end ;  but,  moreover,  it  is  Christ's  victory  which 
has  really  overcome  the  world  in  a  final  and  public 
way.  The  world's  principles  of  action,  its  pleasure- 
seeking,  its  selfishness,  its  childish  regard  for  glitter 
and  for  what  is  present  to  sense,  in  a  word,  its  worldli- 
ness  when  set  over  against  the  life  of  Christ,  is  for  ever 

VOL.    II.  1 6 


242  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

discredited.  Tlie  experience  of  Christ  in  this  world 
reflects  such  discredit  upon  merely  worldly  ways,  and 
so  clearly  exhibits  its  blindness,  its  hatred  of  goodness, 
its  imbecility  when  it  strives  to  counterwork  God's 
purposes,  that  no  man  who  morally  has  his  eyes  open 
can  fail  to  look  with  suspicion  and  abhorrence  on  the 
world.  And  the  dignity,  the  love,  the  apprehension  of 
what  is  real  and  abiding  in  human  affairs,  and  the 
ready  application  of  His  life  to  a  real  and  abiding 
purpose — all  this,  which  is  so  visible  in  the  life  of 
Christ,  gives  certainty  and  attractiveness  to  the  prin- 
ciples opposed  to  worldliness.  We  have  in  Christ's 
life  at  once  an  authoritative  and  an  experimental 
teaching  on  the  greatest  of  all  human  subjects — how 
life  should  be  spent. 

Christ  has  overcome  the  world,  then,  by  resisting 
its  influence  upon  Himself,  by  showing  Himself  actually 
superior  to  its  most  powerful  influences ;  and  His 
overcoming  of  the  world  is  not  merely  a  private  victory 
availing  for  Himself  alone,  but  it  is  a  public  good, 
because  in  His  life  the  perfect  beauty  of  a  life  devoted 
to  eternal  and  spiritual  ends  is  conspicuously  shown. 
The  man  who  can  look  upon  the  conflict  between  the 
world  and  Christ  as  John  has  shown  it,  and  say,  "  I 
would  rather  be  one  of  the  Pharisees  than  Christ,"  is 
hopelessly  blind  to  the  real  value  of  human  life.  But 
what  says  our  life  regarding  the  actual  choice  we  have 
made? 


XVI. 

CHRIST'S  INTERCESSORY  PRAYER. 


243 


"These  things  spake  Jesus  ;  and  lifting  up  His  eyes  to  heaven,  He 
said,  Father,  the  hour  is  come ;  glorify  Thy  Son,  that  the  Son  may 
glorify  Thee  :  even  as  Thou  gavest  Him  authority  over  all  flesh,  that 
whatsoever  Thou  hast  given  Him,  to  them  He  should  give  eternal  life. 
And  tliis  is  life  eternal,  that  they  should  know  Thee  the  only  true  God, 
and  Him  whom  Thou  didst  send,  even  Jesus  Christ.  I  glorified  Thee 
oh  tlie  earth,  having  accomplished  the  work  which  Thou  hast  given  Me 
to  do.  And  now,  O  Father,  glorify  Thou  Me  with  Thine  own  self  with 
the  glory  which  I  had  with  Thee  before  the  world  was.  I  manifested 
Thy  name  unto  the  men  whom  Thou  gavest  Me  out  of  the  world  :  Thine 
they  were,  and  Thou  gavest  them  to  Me  ;  and  they  have  kept  Thy 
word.  Now  they  know  that  all  things  whatsoever  Thou  hast  given  Me 
are  from  Thee :  for  the  words  which  Thou  gavest  Me  I  have  given  unto 
them  ;  and  they  received  them,  and  knew  of  a  truth  that  I  came  forth 
from  Thee,  and  they  believed  that  Thou  didst  send  Me.  I  pray  for 
them  :  I  pray  not  for  the  world,  but  for  those  whom  Thou  hast  given 
Me  ;  for  they  are  Thine :  and  all  things  that  are  Mine  are  Thine,  and 
Thine  are  Mine  :  and  I  am  glorified  in  them.  And  I  am  no  more  in  the 
world,  and  these  are  in  the  world,  and  I  come  to  Thee.  Holy  Father, 
keep  them  in  Thy  name  which  Thou  hast  given  Me,  that  they  may  be 
one,  even  as  We  are.  While  I  was  with  them,  I  kept  them  in  Thy  name 
which  Thou  hast  given  Me  :  and  I  guarded  them,  and  not  one  of  them 
perished,  but  the  son  of  perdition  ;  that  the  Scripture  might  be  fulfilled. 
But  now  I  come  to  Thee ;  and  these  things  I  speak  in  the  world,  that 
they  may  have  My  joy  fulfilled  in  themselves.  I  have  given  them  Thy 
word ;  and  the  world  hated  them,  because  they  are  not  of  the  world, 
even  as  I  am  not  of  the  world.  I  pray  not  that  Thou  shouldest  take 
them  from  the  world,  but  that  Thou  shouldest  keep  them  from  the  evil 
one.  They  are  not  of  the  world,  even  as  I  am  not  of  the  world.  Sanctify 
them  in  the  truth  :  Thy  word  is  truth.  As  Thou  didst  send  Me  into  the 
world,  even  so  sent  I  them  into  the  world.  And  for  their  sakes  I 
sanctify  Myself,  that  they  themselves  also  may  be  sanctified  in  truth. 
Neither  for  these  only  do  I  pray,  but  for  them  also  that  believe  on  Me 
through  their  word  ;  that  they  may  all  be  one  ;  even  as  Thou,  Father, 
art  in  Me,  and  I  in  Thee,  that  they  also  may  be  in  Us  :  that  the  world 

245 


may  believe  that  Thou  didst  send  Me.  And  the  glory  which  Thou 
hast  given  Me  I  have  given  unto  them  ;  that  they  may  be  one,  even  as 
We  are  one  ;  I  in  them,  and  Thou  in  Me,  that  they  may  be  perfected 
into  one  ;  that  the  vi^orld  may  know  that  Thou  didst  send  Me,  and 
iovedst  them,  even  as  Thou  lovedst  Me.  Father,  that  which  Thou  hast 
given  Me,  I  will  that,  where  I  am,  they  also  may  be  with  Me  ;  that 
they  may  behold  My  glory,  which  Thou  hast  given  Me  :  for  Thou 
lovedst  Me  before  the  foundation  of  the  world.  O  righteous  Father, 
the  world  knew  Thee  not,  but  I  knew  Thee  ;  and  these  knew  that  Thou 
didst  send  Me ;  and  I  made  known  unto  them  Thy  name,  and  will 
make  it  known  ;  that  the  love  wherewith  Thou  lovedst  me  may  be  in 
them,  and  I  in  them." — ^John  xvii. 


246 


XVI. 

CHRIST'S  INTERCESSORY  PRAYER 

THIS  prayer  of  Christ  is  in  some  respects  the  most 
precious  relic  of  the  past.  We  have  here  the 
words  which  Christ  addressed  to  God  in  the  critical 
hour  of  His  life — the  words  in  which  He  uttered  the 
deepest  feeling  and  thought  of  His  Spirit,  clarified  and 
concentrated  by  the  prospect  of  death.  What  a  revela- 
tion it  would  be  to  us  had  we  Christ's  prayers  from 
His  boyhood  onwards  !  what  a  liturgy  and  promptuary 
of  devotion  if  we  knew  what  He  had  desired  from  His 
early  years — what  He  had  feared,  what  He  had  prayed 
against,  what  He  had  never  ceased  to  hope  for ;  the 
things  that  one  by  one  dropped  out  of  His  prayers,  the 
things  that  gradually  grew  into  them  ;  the  persons  He 
commended  to  the  Father  and  the  manner  of  this  com- 
mendation ;  His  prayers  for  His  mother,  for  John,  for 
Peter,  for  Lazarus,  for  Judas  !  But  here  we  have  a 
prayer  which,  if  it  does  not  so  abundantly  satisfy 
pardonable  curiosity,  does  at  least  bring  us  into  as 
sacred  a  presence.  For  even  among  the  prayers  of 
Christ  this  stands  by  itself  as  that  in  which  He  gathered 
up  the  retrospect  of  His  past  and  surveyed  the  future  of 
His  Church  ;  in  which,  as  if  already  dying.  He  solemnly 
presented  to  the  Father  Himself,  His  work,  and  His 
people.  Recognising  the  grandeur  of  the  occasion,  we 
may  be  disposed  to  agree  with  Melanchthon,  who,  when 

247 


248  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

giving  his  last  lecture  shortly  before  His  death,  said  : 
"  There  is  no  voice  which  has  ever  been  heard,  either 
in  heaven  or  in  earth,  more  exalted,  more  holy,  more 
fruitful,  more  sublime,  than  this  prayer  offered  up  by 
the  Son  of  God  Himself." 

The  prayer  was  the  natural  conclusion  to  the  con- 
versation which  Jesus  and  the  disciples  had  been  carry- 
ing on.  And  as  the  Eleven  saw  Him  lifting  His  eyes 
to  heaven,  as  if  the  Father  He  addressed  were  visible, 
they  no  doubt  felt  a  security  which  had  not  been 
imparted  by  all  His  promises.  And  when  in  after-life 
they  spoke  of  Christ's  intercession,  this  instance  of  it 
must  always  have  risen  in  memory  and  have  formed  all 
their  ideas  of  that  part  of  the  Redeemer's  work.  It 
has  always  been  believed  that  those  who  have  loved 
and  cared  for  us  while  on  earth  continue  to  do  so  when 
through  death  they  have  passed  nearer  to  the  Source 
of  all  love  and  goodness ;  this  lively  interest  in  us  is 
supposed  to  continue  because  it  formed  so  material  an 
element  in  their  life  here  below ;  and  it  was  impossible 
that  those  who  heard  our  Lord  thus  awfully  commend- 
ing them  to  the  Father  should  ever  forget  this  earnest 
consideration  of  their  state  or  should  ever  come  to  fancy 
that  they  were  forgotten. 

Beginning  with  prayer  for  Himself,  our  Lord  passes 
at  the  sixth  verse  into  prayer  for  His  disciples,  and  at 
the  twentieth  verse  the  prayer  expands  still  more  widely 
and  embraces  the  world,  all  those  who  should  believe  on 
Him. 

First,  Jesus  prays  for  Himself;  and  His  prayer  is, 
"  Father,  glorify  Thy  Son  ;  glorify  Thou  Me  with  Thine 
own  self  with  the  glory  which  I  had  with  Thee  before 
the  world  was."  The  work  for  which  He  came  into 
the  world  was  done  :  "  I  have  finished  the  work  which 


xvii.]  CHRfST'S  INTERCESSORY  PRAYER.  249 


Thou  gavest  Me  to  do."  There  remains  no  more  reason 
why  He  should  stay  longer  on  earth  ;  "  the  hour  is 
come,"  the  hour  for  closing  His  earthly  career  and 
opening  to  Him  a  new  period  and  sphere.  He  does 
not  wish  and  does  not  need  a  prolongation  of  life.  He 
has  found  time  enough  in  less  than  a  half  of  three- 
score years  and  ten  to  do  all  He  can  do  on  earth.  It 
is  character,  not  time,  we  need  to  do  our  work.  To 
make  a  deep  and  abiding  impression  it  is  not  longer 
life  we  need,  but  intensity.  Jesus  did  not  find  Himself 
cramped,  limited,  or  too  soon  hurried  out  of  life.  He 
viewed  death  as  the  suitable  timely  step,  and  took  it 
with  self-command  and  in  order  to  pass  to  something 
better  than  earthly  life. 

How  immeasurably  beneath  this  level  is  the  vaunted 
equanimity  of  the  thinker  who  says,  "  Death  can  be 
no  evil  because  it  is  universal  "  !  How  immeasurably 
beneath  it  is  the  habit  of  most  of  us  !  Which  of  us  can 
stand  in  that  clear  air  on  that  high  point  which  separates 
life  from  what  is  beyond  and  can  say,  "  I  have  finished 
the  work  which  Thou  gavest  Me  to  do  "  ?  A  broken 
column  is  the  fit  monument  of  our  life,  unfinished,  frus- 
trated, useless.  Wasted  energy,  ill-repaired  blunders, 
unfulfilled  purposes,  fruitless  years,  much  that  is  posi- 
tively evil,  much  that  was  done  mechanically  and  care- 
lessly and  for  the  day  ;  plans  ill  conceived  and  worse 
executed  ;  imperfect  ideals  of  life  imperfectly  realised  ; 
pursuits  dictated  by  uneducated  tastes,  unchastened 
whims,  accidental  circumstances, — such  is  the  retrospect 
which  most  of  us  have  as  we  look  back  over  life.  Few 
men  even  recognise  the  reality  of  life  as  part  of  an 
eternal  order,  and,  of  the  few  who  do  so,  still  fewer 
seriously  and  persistently  aim  at  fitting  in  their  life  as 
a  solid  part  of  that  order. 


250  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

Before  we  know  whether  we  have  finished  the  work 
given  us  to  do  we  must  know  what  that  work  is.  At 
the  outset  of  his  account  of  Christ's  work  John  gives 
us  his  conception  of  it.  "  The  Word  was  made  flesh, 
and  dwelt  among  us ;  and  we  beheld  His  glory,  the  glory 
as  of  the  Only-begotten  of  the  Father."  This  work  was 
now  accomplished,  and  Jesus  can  say,  "  I  have  glorified 
Thee  on  the  earth " ;  "I  have  manifested  Thy  name 
unto  the  men  which  Thou  gavest  Me  out  of  the  world." 
We  may  all  add  our  humble  responsive  "  Amen "  to 
this  account  of  His  finished  work.  John  has  carried 
us  through  the  scenes  in  which  Jesus  manifested  the 
glory  of  the  Father  and  showed  the  full  meaning  of 
that  name,  displaying  the  Father's  love  in  His  self- 
sacrificing  interest  in  men,  the  Father's  holiness  and 
supremacy  in  His  devoted  filial  obedience.  Never 
again  can  men  separate  the  idea  of  the  true  God  from 
the  hfe  of  Jesus  Christ ;  it  is  in  that  life  we  come  to 
know  God,  and  through  that  life  His  glory  shines. 
This  many  a  man  has  felt  is  the  true  Divine  glory ; 
this  God  yearning  over  His  lost  and  wretched  children, 
coming  down  and  sharing  in  their  wretchedness  to  win 
them  to  Himself  and  blessedness — this  is  the  God  for 
us.  This  alone  is  glory  such  as  we  bow  before  and 
own  to  be  infinitely  worthy  of  trust  and  adoration, 
almightiness  applying  itself  to  the  necessities  and  fears 
of  the  weak,  perfect  purity  winning  to  itself  the  impure 
and  the  outcast,  love  showing  itself  to  be  Divine  by 
its  patience,  its  humility,  its  absolute  sacrifice.  It  is 
Christ  who  has  found  entrance  for  these  conceptions  of 
God  once  for  all  into  the  human  mind ;  it  is  to  Christ 
we  owe  it  that  we  know  a  God  we  can  entirely  love 
and  increasingly  worship.  With  the  most  assured 
truth  He  could  say,  "  I  have  finished  the  work  which 


xvii.]  CHRIST'S  INTERCESSORY  PRAYER.  251 

Thou  gavest  Me  to  do ;  I  have  glorified  Thee  on  the 
earth ;  I  have  manifested  Thy  name  unto  the  men 
which  Thou  gavest  Me  out  of  the  world." 

But  Christ  recognises  a  work  which  ran  parallel 
with  this,  a  work  which  continually  resulted  from  His 
manifestation  of  the  Father.  By  His  manifesting  the 
Father  He  gave  eternal  life  to  those  who  accepted 
and  believed  His  revelation.  The  power  to  reveal  the 
Father  which  Christ  had  received  He  had  not  on  His 
own  account,  but  that  He  might  give  eternal  life  to  men. 
For  "  this  is  life  eternal,  that  they  might  know  Thee 
the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ,  whom  Thou  hast 
sent."  Eternal  life  is  not  merely  life  indefinitely  pro- 
longed. It  is  rather  life  under  new  conditions  and  fed 
from  different  sources.  It  can  be  entered  upon  now, 
but  a  full  understanding  of  it  is  now  impossible.  The 
grub  might  as  well  tr}'-  to  understand  the  life  of  the 
butterfly,  or  the  chick  in  the  shell  the  life  of  the  bird. 
To  know  what  Christ  revealed,  this  is  the  birth  to 
life  eternal.  To  know  that  love  and  holiness  are  the 
governing  powers  in  conformity  with  which  all  things 
are  carried  onward  to  their  end ;  to  know  what  God  is, 
that  He  is  a  Father  who  cannot  leave  us  His  children 
of  earth  behind  and  pass  on  to  His  own  great  works 
and  purposes  in  the  universe,  but  stoops  to  our  little- 
ness and  delays  that  He  may  carry  every  one  of  us 
with  Him, — this  is  life  eternal.  This  it  is  that  subdues 
the  human  heart  and  cleanses  it  from  pride,  self-seek- 
ing, and  lust,  and  that  inclines  it  to  bow  before  the 
holy  and  loving  God,  and  to  choose  Him  and  life  in 
Him.  This  it  is  that  turns  it  from  the  brief  joys  and 
imperfect  meanings  of  time  and  gives  it  a  home  in 
eternity — that  severs  it  in  disposition  and  in  destiny 
from  the  changing,  passing  world  and  gives  it  an  eternal 


252  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

inheritance  as  God's  child.  To  as  many  as  beh'eved 
Christ,  to  them  He  gave  power  to  become  the  sons  of 
God.  To  believe  Him  and  to  accept  the  God  He 
reveals  is  to  become  a  son  of  God  and  is  to  enter 
into  life  eternal.  To  be  conquered  by  the  Divine  love 
shown  us ;  to  feel  that  not  in  worldly  ambition  or  any 
self-seeking,  but  only  in  devotion  to  interests  that  are 
spiritual  and  general,  is  the  true  life  for  us ;  to  yield 
ourselves  to  the  Spirit  of  Christ  and  seek  to  be  ani- 
mated and  possessed  by  that  Spirit, — this  is  to  throw  in 
our  lot  with  God,  to  be  satisfied  ia  Him,  to  have  eternal 
hfe. 

The  earthly  work  of  Christ,  then,  being  finished,  He 
asks  the  Father  to  glorify  Him  with  His  own  self,  with 
the  glory  He  had  with  Him  before  the  world  was.  It 
seems  to  me  vain  to  deny  that  this  petition  implies  on 
Christ's  part  a  consciousness  of  a  life  which  He  had 
before  He  appeared  on  earth.  His  mind  turns  from 
the  present  hour,  from  His  earthly  life,  to  eternity,  to 
those  regions  beyond  time  into  which  no  created  intelli- 
gence can  follow  Him,  and  in  which  God  alone  exists, 
and  in  that  Divine  solitude  He  claims  a  place  for  Him- 
self. If  He  merely  meant  that  from  eternity  God  had 
conceived  of  Him,  the  ideal  man,  and  if  the  existence 
and  glory  He  speaks  of  were  merely  existence  in  God's 
mind,  but  not  actual,  His  words  do  not  convey  His 
meaning.  The  glory  which  He  prayed  for  now  was 
a  conscious,  living  glory  ;  He  did  not  wish  to  become 
extinct  or  to  be  absorbed  in  the  Divine  being;  He 
meant  to  continue  and  did  continue  in  actual,  personal, 
living  existence.  This  was  the  glory  He  prayed  for, 
and  this  therefore  must  also  have  been  the  glory  He 
had  before  the  world  was.  It  was  a  glory  of  which 
it  was  proper  to  say,  "  /  had  it,"  and  not  merely  God 


xvii.]  CHRIST'S  INTERCESSORY  PRAYER.  253 

conceived  it :  it  was  enjoyed  by  Christ  before  the 
worlds  were,  and  was  not  only  in  the  mind  of 
God. 

What  that  glory  was,  who  can  tell  ?  We  know  it 
was  a  glory  not  of  position  only,  but  of  character — a 
glory  which  disposed  and  prepared  Him  to  sympathize 
with  suffering  and  to  give  Himself  to  the  actual  needs 
of  men.  From  that  glory  He  came  to  share  with  men 
in  their  humiliation,  to  expose  Himself  to  their  scorn 
and  abuse,  to  win  them  to  eternal  life  and  to  some 
true  participation  in  His  glory. 

But  Christ's  removal  from  the  earthly  and  visible 
life  involved  a  great  change  in  the  condition  of  the 
disciples.  Hitherto  He  had  been  present  with  them 
day  by  day,  always  exhibiting  to  them  spiritual  glory, 
and  attracting  them  to  it  in  His  own  person.  So  long 
as  they  saw  God's  glory  in  so  attractive  and  friendly 
a  form  it  was  not  difficult  for  them  to  resist  the  world's 
temptations.  "  While  I  was  with  them  in  the  world, 
I  kept  them  in  Thy  name  " — that  is,  by  revealing  the 
Father  to  them ;  but  "  now  I  am  no  more  in  the  world, 
but  these  are  in  the  world,  and  I  come  to  Thee.  Holy 
Father,  keep  through  Thine  own  name  those  whom 
Thou  hast  given  Me.  Sanctify  them  through  Thy 
truth :  Thy  word  is  truth."  Christ  had  been  the  Word 
Incarnate,  the  utterance  of  God  to  men  ;  in  Him  men 
recognised  what  God  is  and  what  God  wills.  And 
this  sanctified  them  ;  this  marvellous  revelation  of  God 
and  His  love  for  men  drew  men  to  Him  :  they  felt  how 
Divine  and  overcoming  a  love  this  was  ;  they  adored 
the  name  Father  which  Christ  the  Son  made  known  to 
them  ;  they  felt  themselves  akin  to  God  and  claimed  by 
Him,  and  spurned  the  world ;  they  recognised  in  them- 
selves that  which  could  understand  and  be  appealed  to 


254  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


by  such  a  love  as  God's.  Their  glory  was  to  be  God's 
children. 

But  now  the  visible  image,  the  Incarnate  Word,  is 
withdrawn,  and  Christ  commits  to  the  Father  those 
whom  He  leaves  on  earth.  "  Holy  Father,"  Thou 
whose  holiness  moves  Thee  to  keep  men  separate 
to  Thyself  from  every  evil  contagion,  "  keep  through 
Thine  own  name  those  whom  Thou  hast  given  Me." 
It  is  still  by  the  recognition  of  God  in  Christ  that 
we  are  to  be  kept  from  evil,  by  contemplating  and 
penetrating  this  great  manifestation  of  God  to  us,  by 
listening  humbly  and  patiently  to  this  Incarnate  Word. 
Knowledge  of  the  God  whose  the  world  and  all 
existence  is,  knowledge  of  Him  in  whom  we  live  and 
whose  holiness  is  silently  judging  and  ruling  all  things, 
knowledge  that  He  who  rules  all  and  who  is  above  all 
gives  Himself  to  us  with  a  love  that  thinks  no  sacrifice 
too  great — it  is  this  knowledge  of  the  truth  that  saves 
us  from  the  world.  It  is  the  knowledge  of  those 
abiding  realities  which  Christ  revealed,  of  those  great 
and  loving  purposes  of  God  to  man,  and  of  the  cer- 
tainty of  their  fulfilment,  which  recalls  us  to  holiness 
and  to  God,  There  is  reality  here ;  all  else  is  empty 
and  delusive. 

But  these  realities  are  obscured  and  thrust  aside 
by  a  thousand  pretentious  frivolities  which  claim  our 
immediate  attention  and  interest.  We  are  in  the 
world,  and  day  by  day  the  world  insists  that  we  shall 
consider  it  the  great  reality.  Christ  had  conquered  it 
and  was  leaving  it.  Why,  then,  did  He  not  take  with 
Him  all  whom  He  had  won  to  Himself  out  of  the 
world  ?  He  did  not  do  so  because  they  had  a  work 
to  accomplish  which  could  only  be  accomplished  in  the 
world.     As  He  had  consecrated  Himself  to  the  work 


xvii.]  CHRIST'S  INTERCESSORY  PRAYER.  255 

of  making  known  the  Father,  so  must  they  consecrate 
themselves  to  the  same  work.  As  Christ  in  His  own 
person  and  life  had  brought  clear  before  their  minds 
the  presence  of  the  Father,  so  must  they  by  their 
person  and  life  manifest  in  the  world  the  existence  and 
the  grace  of  Christ.  They  must  make  permanent  and 
universal  the  revelation  He  had  brought,  that  all  the 
world  might  believe  that  He  was  the  true  representa- 
tive of  God.  Christ  had  lighted  them,  and  with  their 
light  they  were  to  kindle  all  men,  till  the  world  was 
full  of  light.  A  share  in  this  work  is  given  to  each  of 
us.  We  are  permitted  to  mediate  between  God  and 
men,  to  carry  to  some  the  knowledge  which  gives  life 
eternal.  It  is  made  possible  to  us  to  be  benefactors  in 
the  highest  kind,  to  give  to  this  man  and  that  a  God. 
To  parents  it  is  made  possible  to  fill  the  opening  and 
hungry  mind  of  their  child  with  a  sense  of  God  which 
will  awe,  restrain,  encourage,  gladden  him  all  his  life 
through.  To  relieve  the  wants  of  to-day,  to  refresh 
any  human  spirit  by  kindness,  and  to  forward  the 
interests  of  any  struggler  in  life  is  much  ;  but  it  is 
little  compared  with  the  joy  and  solid  utiHty  of  dis- 
closing to  a  human  soul  that  which  he  at  last  recog- 
nises as  Divine,  and  before  which  at  last  he  bows  in 
spontaneous  adoration  and  absolute  trust.  To  the  man 
who  has  long  questioned  whether  there  is  a  God,  who 
has  doubted  whether  there  is  any  morally  perfect  Being, 
any  Spirit  existent  greater  and  purer  than  man,  you 
have  but  to  show  Christ,  and  through  His  unconquer- 
able love  and  untemptable  holiness  reveal  to  him  a  God. 
But  as  it  was  not  by  telling  men  about  God  that  Christ 
convinced  men  that  somewhere  there  existed  a  holy 
God  who  cared  for  them,  but  by  showing  God's  holiness 
and  love  present  to  them  in  His  own  person,  so  our 


256  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

words  may  fail  to  accomplish  much  if  our  life  does  not 
reveal  a  presence  men  cannot  but  recognise  as  Divine. 
It  was  by  being  one  with  the  Father  Christ  revealed 
Him  ;  it  was  the  Father's  will  His  life  exhibited.  And 
the  extension  of  this  to  the  whole  world  of  men  is 
the  utmost  of  Christ's  desire.  All  will  be  accomplished 
when  all  men  are  one,  even  as  Christ  and  the  Father 
are  already  one. 

This  text  is  often  cited  by  those  who  seek  to  promote 
the  union  of  churches.  But  we  find  it  belongs  to  a 
very  different  category  and  much  higher  region.  That 
all  churches  should  be  under  similar  government,  should 
adopt  the  same  creed,  should  use  the  same  forms  of 
worship,  even  if  possible,  is  not  supremely  desirable ; 
but  real  unity  of  sentiment  towards  Christ  and  of  zeal 
to  promote  His  will  is  supremely  desirable.  Christ's 
will  is  all-embracing;  the  purposes  of  God  are  wide 
as  the  universe,  and  can  be  fulfilled  only  by  end- 
less varieties  of  dispositions,  functions,  organisations, 
labours.  We  must  expect  that,  as  time  goes  on, 
men,  so  far  from  being  contracted  into  a  narrow  and 
monotonous  uniformity,  will  exhibit  increasing  diver- 
sities of  thought  and  of  method,  and  will  be  more 
and  more  differentiated  in  all  outward  respects.  If 
the  infinitely  comprehensive  purposes  of  God  are  to  be 
fulfilled,  it  must  be  so.  But  also,  if  these  purposes  are 
to  be  fulfilled,  all  intelligent  agents  must  be  at  one  with 
God,  and  must  be  so  profoundly  in  sympathy  with 
God's  mind  as  revealed  in  Christ  that,  however  different 
one  man's  work  or  methods  may  be  from  another's, 
God's  will  shall  alike  be  carried  out  by  both.  If  this 
will  can  be  more  freely  carried  out  by  separate  churches, 
then  outward  separation  is  no  great  calamity.  Only 
when  outward  separation  leads  one  church  to  despise 


xvii.]  CHRIST'S  INTERCESSORY  PRAYER.  257 

or  rival  or  hate  another  is  it  a  calamity.  But  whether 
churches  abide  separate  or  are  incorporated  in  outward 
unity,  the  desirable  thing  is  that  they  be  one  in  Christ, 
that  they  have  the  same  eagerness  in  His  service,  that 
they  be  as  regiments  of  one  army  fighting  a  common 
foe  and  supporting  one  another,  diverse  in  outward 
appearance,  in  method,  in  function,  as  artillery,  infantry, 
cavalry,  engineers,  or  even  as  the  army  and  navy  of 
the  same  country,  but  fighting  for  one  flag  and  one 
cause,  and  their  very  diversity  more  vividly  exhibiting 
their  real  unity. 

But  why  should  unity  be  the  ultimate  desire  of 
Christ,  the  highest  point  to  which  the  Saviour's  wishes 
for  mankind  can  reach  ?  Because  spirit  is  that  which 
rules ;  and  if  we  be  one  with  God  in  spirit  the  future 
is  ours.  This  mighty  universe  in  which  we  find 
ourselves,  apparently  governed  by  forces  compared  to 
which  the  most  powerful  of  human  engines  are  weak 
as  the  moth — forces  which  keep  this  earth,  and  orbs 
immeasurably  larger,  suspended  in  space, — this  universe 
is  controlled  by  spirit,  is  designed  for  spiritual  ends, 
for  ends  of  the  highest  kind  and  which  concern  con- 
scious and  moral  beings. 

It  is  as  yet  only  by  glimpses  we  can  see  the  happi- 
ness of  those  who  are  one  with  God ;  it  is  only 
by  inadequate  comparisons  and  with  mental  effort  we 
can  attain  to  even  a  rudimentary  conception  of  the 
future  that  awaits  those  who  are  thus  eternally  blessed. 
Of  them  well  may  Paul  say,  "  All  things  are  yours  ;  for 
ye  are  Christ's,  and  Christ  is  God's."  It  is  for  Christ 
all  things  are  governed  by  God  ;  to  be  in  Him  is  to 
be  above  the  reach  of  catastrophe — to  be,  as  Christ 
Himself  expresses  it,  beside  Himself  on  the  throne, 
from  which  all  things  are  ruled.     Having  been  attracted 

VOL.  II.  17 


258  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

by  His  character,  by  what  He  is  and  does,  and  having 
sought  here  on  earth  to  promote  His  will,  we  shall  be 
His  agents  hereafter,  but  in  a  life  in  which  spiritual 
glory  irradiates  everything,  and  in  which  an  ecstasy 
and  strength  which  this  frail  body  could  not  contain 
will  be  the  normal  and  constant  index  of  the  life  of 
God  in  us.  To  do  good,  to  utter  by  word  or  deed  the 
love  and  power  that  are  in  us,  is  the  permanent  joy  of 
man.  With  what  alacrity  does  the  surgeon  approach 
the  operation  he  knows  will  be  successful !  with  what 
pleasure  does  the  painter  put  on  canvas  the  idea  which 
fills  his  mind  and  which  he  knows  will  appeal  to 
every  one  who  sees  it !  And  whoever  learns  to  do 
good  by  partaking  of  God's  spirit  of  communicative 
goodness  will  find  everlasting  joy  in  imparting  what 
he  has  and  can.  He  will  do  so,  not  with  the  feeble 
and  hesitating  mind  and  hand  which  here  make  almost 
every  good  action  partly  painful,  but  with  a  spontaneity 
and  sense  of  power  which  will  be  wholly  pleasure ;  he 
will  know  that  being  one  with  God  he  can  do  good, 
can  accomplish  and  effect  some  solid  and  needful  work. 
Slowly,  very  slowly,  is  this  arrived  at ;  but  time  is  of 
no  consequence  in  work  that  is  eternal,  so  long  only 
as  we  are  sure  we  do  not  idly  miss  present  oppor- 
tunities of  learning,  so  long  only  as  we  know  that  our 
faces  are  turned  in  the  right  direction,  and  that  a  right 
spirit  is  in  us. 

If  there  lingers  in  our  minds  a  feeling  that  the  end 
Christ  proposes  and  utters  as  His  last  prayer  for  men 
does  not  draw  us  with  irresistible  force,  it  might  be 
enough  to  say  to  our  own  heart  that  this  is  our  weak- 
ness, that  certainly  in  this  prayer  we  do  touch  the  very 
central  significance  of  human  life,  and  that  however 
dimly  human  words  may  be  able  to   convey  thoughts 


xvii.]  CHRIST'S  INTERCESSORY  PRAYER.  259 


regarding   eternity    we    have    here    in    Christ's   words 
sufficient  indication   of  the   one  abiding  end  and  aim 
of  all  wisely  directed  human  life.     Whatever  the  future 
of  man  is  to  be,  whatever  joy  /i/e  is  to  become,  in  what- 
ever far-reaching  and  prolonged  experiences  we  are  to 
learn  the  fruitfulness  and  efficacy  of  God's  love,  what- 
ever new  sources  and  conditions  of  happiness  we  may 
in    future   worlds    be   introduced   to,   whatever  higher 
energies  and  richer  affections  are  to  be  opened  in  us, 
all  this  can  only  be  by  our  becoming  one  with  God,  in 
whose  will  the  future  now  hes.     And  it  may  also  be 
said,  if  we  think  this  the  prayer  of  One  who  was  not 
in  the  full  current  of  actual  human  life,  and  had  little 
understanding  of  men's  ways,  that  this  prayer  is  ful- 
filled in  very  many  who  are  deeply  involved  and  busily 
occupied  in  this  world.     They  give  their  mind  to  their 
employment,  but  their  heart  goes  to  higher  aims  and 
more    enduring  results.      To  do  good   is   to  them  of 
greater  consequence  than  to  make  money.     To  see  the 
number  of  Christ's   sincere  followers  increasing  is  to 
them  truer  joy  than  to  see  their  own  business  extending. 
In  the  midst  of  their  greatest  prosperity  they  recognise 
that  there  is  something  far  better  than  worldly  pros- 
perity, and  that  is,  to  be  kept  from  the  evil  that  is  in 
the  world  and  to  extend  the  knowledge  of  God.     They 
feel  in  common  with  all  men  that  it  is  not  always  easy 
to   remember   that   great    spiritual    kingdom   with    its 
mighty  but  unobtrusive  interests,  but  they  are  kept  by 
the  Father's  name,  and  they  do  on  the  whole  live  under 
the  influence  of  God  and  hoping  in  His  salvation.    And 
it  would  help  us  all  to  do  so  were  we  to  believe  that 
Christ's  interest  in  us  is  such  as  this  prayer  reveals, 
and  that  the  great  subject  of  His  intercession  is,  that 
we  be  kept  from  the  evil  that  is  in  the  world  and  be 


26o  THE  GOSPEL    OF  ST.  JOHN. 

helpful  in  the  great  and  enduring  work  of  bringing  into 
truer  fellowship  men's  lives  and  God's  goodness.  Along- 
side of  all  our  profitless  labour  and  unworthiness  of  aim 
there  runs  this  lofty  aim  of  Christ  for  us  ;  and  while  we 
are  greedily  following  after  pleasure,  or  thoughtlessly 
throwing  ourselves  into  mere  worldliness,  our  Lord  is 
praying  the  Father  that  we  be  lifted  into  harmony  with 
Him  and  be  used  as  channels  of  His  grace  to  others. 


XVII. 

THE  ARREST. 


261 


"  When  Jesus  had  spoken  these  words,  He  went  forth  with  His  dis- 
ciples over  the  brook  Kidron,  where  was  a  garden,  into  the  which  He 
entered,  Himself  and  His  disciples.  Now  Judas  also,  which  betrayed 
Him,  knew  the  place :  for  Jesus  ofttimes  resorted  thither  with  His 
disciples.  Judas  then,  having  received  the  band  of  soldiers,  and  officers 
from  the  chief  priests  and  the  Pharisees,  cometh  thither  with  lanterns 
and  torches  and  weapons.  Jesus  therefore,  knowing  all  the  things  that 
were  coming  upon  Him,  went  forth,  and  saith  unto  them,  Whom  seek 
ye  ?  They  answered  Him,  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  Jesus  saith  unto  them, 
I  am  He.  And  Judas  also,  which  betrayed  Him,  was  standing  with 
them.  When  therefore  He  said  unto  them,  I  am  He,  they  went  back- 
ward, and  fell  to  the  ground.  Again  therefore  He  asked  them,  Whom 
seek  ye  ?  And  they  said,  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  Jesus  answered,  I  told 
you  that  I  am  He  :  if  therefore  ye  seek  Me,  let  these  go  their  way  : 
that  the  word  might  be  fulfilled  which  He  spake,  Of  those  whom  Thou 
hast  given  Me  I  lost  not  one.  Simon  Peter  therefore  having  a  sword 
drew  it,  and  struck  the  high  priest's  servant,  and  cut  off  his  right  ear. 
Now  the  servant's  name  was  Malchus.  Jesus  therefore  said  unto  Peter, 
Put  up  the  sword  into  the  sheath  :  the  cup  which  the  Father  hath  given 
Me,  shall  I  not  drink  it  ?  So  the  band  and  the  chief  captain,  and  the 
officers  of  the  Jews,  seized  Jesus  and  bound  Him,  and  led  Him  to  Annas 
first  ;  for  he  was  father-in-law  to  Caiaphas,  which  was  high  priest  that 
year.  Now  Caiaphas  was  he  which  gave'  counsel  to  the  Jews,  that 
it  was  expedient  that  one  man  should  die  for  the  people." — ^John 
xviii.  I-14. 


XVII. 

THE  ARREST. 

JESUS  having  commended  to  the  Father  Himself 
and  His  disciples,  left  the  city,  crossed  the  Kidron, 
^  and  entered  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane,  where  He 
frequently  went  for  quiet  and  to  pass  the  night.  The 
time  He  had  spent  in  encouraging  His  disciples  and 
praying  for  them  Judas  had  spent  in  making  prepara- 
tions for  His  arrest.  In  order  to  impress  Pilate  with 
the  dangerous  nature  of  this  Galilean  he  asks  him  for 
the  use  of  the  Roman  cohort  to  effect  His  capture.  It 
was  possible  His  arrest  might  occasion  a  tumult  and 
rouse  the  people  to  attempt  a  rescue.  Perhaps  Judas 
also  had  an  alarming  remembrance  of  the  miraculous 
power  he  had  seen  Jesus  put  forth,  and  was  afraid  to 
attempt  His  apprehension  with  only  the  understrappers 
of  the  Sanhedrim  or  the  Temple  guard  ;  so  he  takes 
the  Roman  cohort  of  five  hundred  men,  or  whatever 
number  he  would  reckon  would  be  more  than  a  match 
for  a  miracle.  And  though  the  moon  was  full,  he  takes 
the  precaution  of  furnishing  the  expedition  with  lanterns 
and  torches,  for  he  knew  that  down  in  that  deep  Kidron 
gully  it  was  often  dark  when  there  was  plenty  of  light 
above  ;  and  might  not  Jesus  hide  Himself  in  some  of 
the  shadows,  in  some  thicket  or  cavern,  or  in  some 
garden-shed  or  tower  ?     He  could  not  have  made  more 

263 


264  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

elaborate  preparations  had  he  been  wishing  to  take  a 
thief  or  to  surprise  a  dangerous  chief  of  banditti  in  his 
stronghold. 

The  futility  of  such  preparations  became  at  once 
apparent.  So  far  from  trying  to  hide  Himself  or  slip 
out  by  the  back  of  the  garden,  Jesus  no  sooner  sees 
the  armed  men  than  He  steps  to  the  front  and  asks, 
"  Whom  seek  ye  ?  "  Jesus,  in  order  that  He  might 
screen  His  disciples,  wished  at  once  to  be  identified  by 
His  captors  themselves  as  the  sole  object  of  their  search. 
By  declaring  that  they  sought  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  they 
virtually  exempted  the  rest  from  apprehension.  But 
when  Jesus  identified  Himself  as  the  person  they 
sought,  instead  of  rushing  forward  and  holding  Him 
fast,  as  Judas  had  instructed  them,  those  in  front  shrank 
back  ;  they  felt  that  they  had  no  weapons  that  would 
not  break  upon  the  calmness  of  that  spiritual  majesty ; 
they  went  backward  and  fell  to  the  ground.  This  was 
no  idle  display ;  it  was  not  a  needless  theatrical  garnish- 
ing of  the  scene  for  the  sake  of  effect.  If  we  could 
imagine  the  Divine  nobility  of  Christ's  appearance  at 
that  critical  moment  when  He  finally  proclaimed  His 
work  done  and  gave  Himself  up  to  die,  we  should  all 
of  us  sink  humbled  and  overcome  before  Him.  Even 
in  the  dim  and  flickering  light  of  the  torches  there  was 
that  in  His  appearance  which  made  it  impossible  for 
the  bluntest  and  rudest  soldier  to  lay  a  hand  upon 
Him.  Discipline  was  forgotten ;  the  legionaries  who 
had  thrown  themselves  on  spear-points  unawed  by  the 
fiercest  of  foes  saw  in  this  unarmed  figure  something 
which  quelled  and  bewildered  them. 

But  this  proof  of  His  superiority  was  lost  upon  His 
disciples.  They  thought  that  armed  force  should  be  met 
by  armed  force.     Recovering  from  their  discomfiture, 


xviii,  1-14.]  THE  ARREST.  265 

and  being  ashamed  of  it,  the  soldiers  and  servants 
of  the  Sanhedrim  advance  to  bind  Jesus.  Peter,  viho 
had  with  some  dim  presentiment  of  what  was  coming 
possessed  himself  of  a  sword,  aims  a  blow  at  the  head 
of  Malchus,  who  having  his  hands  occupied  in  binding 
Jesus  can  only  defend  himself  by  bending  his  head  to 
one  side,  and  so  instead  of  his  life  loses  only  his  ear. 
To  our  Lord  this  interposition  of  Peter  seemed  as  if 
he  were  dashing  out  of  His  hand  the  cup  which  the 
Father  had  put  into  it.  Disengaging  His  hands  from 
those  who  already  held  them  He  said,  "  Suffer  ye  thus 
far  "  ^  (Permit  Me  to  do  this  one  thing)  ;  and  laying  His 
hand  on  the  wound  He  healed  it,  this  forgiving  and 
beneficent  act  being  the  last  done  by  His  unbound 
hands — significant,  indeed,  that  such  should  be  the 
style  of  action  from  which  they  prevented  Him  by 
binding  His  hands.  Surely  the  Roman  officer  in  com- 
mand, if  none  of  the  others,  must  have  observed  the 
utter  incongruity  of  the  bonds,  the  fatuous  absurdity 
and  wickedness  of  tying  hands  because  they  wrought 
miracles  of  healing. 

While  our  Lord  thus  calmly  resigned  Himself  to 
His  fate.  He  was  not  without  an  indignant  sense  of 
the  wrong  that  was  done  Him,  not  only  in  His  being 
apprehended,  but  in  the  manner  of  it.  "  Are  ye  come 
out  as  against  a  thief  with  swords  and  with  staves  ? 
I  sat  daily  teaching  in  the  Temple,  and  ye  laid  no  hold 
on  Me."  Many  of  the  soldiers  must  have  felt  how 
ungenerous  it  was  to  treat  such  a  Person  as  a  common 
felon, — coming  upon  Him  thus  in  the  dead  of  night, 
as  if  He  were  one  who  never  appeared  in  the  daylight ; 
coming  with  bludgeons  and  military  aid,  as  if  He  were 

'  Luke  xxii.  51. 


266  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

likely  to  create  a  disturbance.  Commonly  an  arrest 
is  considered  to  be  best  made  if  the  culprit  is  seized 
red-handed  in  the  very  act.  Why,  then,  had  they  not 
thus  taken  Him  ?  They  knew  that  the  popular  con- 
science was  with  Him,  and  they  dared  not  take  Him 
on  the  streets  of  Jerusalem.  It  was  the  last  evidence 
of  their  inability  to  understand  His  kingdom,  its  nature 
and  .  its  aims.  Yet  surely  some  of  the  crowd  must 
have  felt  ashamed  of  themselves,  and  been  uneasy  till 
they  got  rid  of  their  unsuitable  weapons,  stealthily 
dropping  their  sticks  as  they  walked  or  hurling  them 
deep  into  the  shade  of  the  garden. 

This,  then,  is  the  result  produced  by  our  Lord's 
labours  of  love  and  wisdom.  His  conduct  had  been 
most  conciliatory— conciliatory  to  the  point  of  meekness 
unintelligible  to  those  who  could  not  penetrate  His 
motives.  He  had  innovated  certainly,  but  His  innova- 
tions were  blessings,  and  were  so  marked  by  wisdom 
and  sanctioned  by  reason  that  every  direct  assault 
against  them  had  broken  down.  He  did  not  seek  for 
power  further  than  for  the  power  of  doing  good.  He 
knew  He  could  lift  men  to  a  far  other  life  than  they 
were  living,  and  permission  to  do  so  was  His  grand 
desire.  The  result  was  that  He  was  marked  as  the 
object  of  the  most  rancorous  hatred  of  which  the  human 
heart  is  capable.  Why  so  ?  Do  we  need  to  ask  ? 
What  is  more  exasperating  to  men  who  fancy  them- 
selves the  teachers  of  the  age  than  to  find  another 
teacher  carrying  the  convictions  of  the  people  ?  What 
is  more  painful  than  to  find  that  in  advanced  life  we 
must  revolutionise  our  opinions  and  admit  the  truth 
taught  by  our  juniors?  He  who  has  new  truths  to 
declare  or  new  methods  to  introduce  must  recognise 
that   he  will    be   opposed  by  the  combined  forces  of 


xviii.  1-14.]  THE  ARREST.  267 

ignorance,  pride,  self-interest,  and  sloth.  The  majority 
are  always  on  the  side  of  things  as  they  are.  And 
whoever  suggests  improvement,  whoever  shows  the 
faultiness  and  falseness  of  what  has  been  in  vogue, 
must  be  prepared  to  pay  the  price  and  endure  mis- 
understanding, calumny,  opposition,  and  ill-usage.  If 
all  men  speak  well  of  us,  it  is  only  while  we  go  with  the 
stream.  As  soon  as  we  oppose  popular  customs,  explode 
received  opinions,  introduce  reforms,  we  must  lay  our 
account  for  ill-treatment.  It  has  always  been  so,  and 
in  the  nature  of  things  it  must  always  be  so.  We 
cannot  commit  a  crime  more  truly  hated  by  society 
than  to  convince  it  there  are  better  ways  of  living  than 
its  own  and  a  truth  beyond  what  it  has  conceived, 
and  it  has  been  the  consolation  and  encouragement  of 
many  who  have  endeavoured  to  improve  matters  around 
them  and  have  met  with  contempt  or  enmity  that  they 
share  the  lot  of  Him  whose  reward  for  seeking  to  bless 
mankind  was  that  He  was  arrested  as  a  common  felon. 
When  thus  treated,  men  are  apt  to  be  embittered 
towards  their  fellows.  When  all  their  efforts  to  do 
good  are  made  the  very  ground  of  accusation  against 
them,  there  is  the  strongest  provocation  to  give  up  all 
such  attempts  and  to  arrange  for  one's  own  comfort 
and  safety.  This  world  has  few  more  sufficient  tests 
to  apply  to  character  than  this ;  and  it  is  only  the  few 
who,  when  misinterpreted  and  ill-used  by  ignorance 
and  malignity,  can  retain  any  loving  care  for  others. 
It  struck  the  spectators,  therefore,  of  this  scene  in  the 
garden  as  a  circumstance  worthy  of  record,  that  when 
Jesus  was  Himself  bound  He  should  shield  His  disciples. 
"If  ye  seek  Me,  let  these  go  their  way."  Some  ot 
the  crowd  had  perhaps  laid  hands  on  the  disciples  or 
were  showing  a  disposition  to  apprehend  them  as  well 


268  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

as  their  Master.  Jesus  therefore  interferes,  reminding 
His  captors  that  they  had  themselves  said  that  He  was 
the  object  of  this  midnight  raid,  and  that  the  disciples 
must  therefore  be  scatheless. 

In  relating  this  part  of  the  scene  John  puts  an 
interpretation  on  it  which  was  not  merely  natural,  but 
which  has  been  put  upon  it  instinctively  by  all  Christians 
since.  It  seemed  to  John  as  if,  in  thus  acting,  our  Lord 
was  throwing  into  a  concrete  and  tangible  form  His 
true  substitution  in  the  room  of  His  people.  To  John 
these  words  He  utters  seem  the  motto  of  His  work. 
Had  any  of  the  disciples  been  arrested  along  with  Jesus 
and  been  executed  by  His  side  as  act  and  part  with 
Him,  the  view  which  the  Christian  world  has  taken  of 
Christ's  position  and  work  must  have  been  blurred  if 
not  quite  altered.  But  the  Jews  had  penetration  enough 
to  see  where  the  strength  of  this  movement  lay.  They 
believed  that  if  the  Shepherd  was  smitten  the  sheep 
would  give  them  no  trouble,  but  would  necessarily 
scatter.  Peter's  flourish  with  the  sword  attracted  little 
attention ;  they  knew  that  great  movements  were  not 
led  by  men  of  his  type.  They  passed  him  by  with  a 
smile  and  did  not  even  arrest  him.  It  was  Jesus  who 
stood  before  them  as  alone  dangerous.  And  Jesus  on 
His  side  knew  that  the  Jews  were  right,  that  He  was 
the  responsible  person,  that  these  Galileans  would  have 
been  dreaming  at  their  nets  had  He  not  summoned 
them  to  follow  Him.  If  there  was  any  offence  in  the 
matter,  it  belonged  to  Him,  not  to  them. 

But  in  Jesus  thus  stepping  to  the  front  and  shielding 
the  disciples  by  exposing  Himself,  John  sees  a  picture 
of  the  whole  sacrifice  and  substitution  of  Christ.  This 
figure  of  his  Master  moving  forward  to  meet  the  swords 
and  staves  of  the  party  remains  indelibly  stamped  upon 


xviii.  1-14.]  THE  ARREST.  269 

his  mind  as  the  symbol  of  Christ's  whole  relation  to 
His  people.  That  night  in  Gethsemane  was  to  them 
all  the  hour  and  power  of  darkness ;  and  in  every 
subsequent  hour  of  darkness  John  and  the  rest  see  the 
same  Divine  figure  stepping  to  the  front,  shielding  them 
and  taking  upon  Himself  all  the  responsibility.  It  is 
thus  Christ  would  have  us  think  of  Him — as  our  friend 
and  protector,  watchful  over  our  interests,  alive  to  all 
that  threatens  our  persons,  interposing  between  us  and 
every  hostile  event.  If  by  following  Him  according 
to  our  knowledge  we  are  brought  into  difficulties,  into 
circumstances  of  trouble  and  danger,  if  we  are  brought 
into  collision  with  those  in  power,  if  we  are  discouraged 
and  threatened  by  serious  obstacles,  let  us  be  quite  sure 
that  in  the  critical  moment  He  will  interpose  and  con- 
vince us  that,  though  He  cannot  save  Himself,  He  can 
save  others.  He  will  not  lead  us  into  difficulties  and 
leave  us  to  find  our  own  way  out  of  them.  If  in  striv- 
ing to  discharge  our  duty  we  have  become  entangled 
in  many  distressing  and  annoying  circumstances,  He 
acknowledges  His  responsibility  in  leading  us  into  such 
a  condition,  and  will  see  that  we  are  not  permanently 
the  worse  for  it.  If  in  seeking  to  know  Him  more 
thoroughly  we  have  been  led  into  mental  perplexities, 
He  will  stand  by  us  and  see  that  we  come  to  no  harm. 
He  encourages  us  to  take  this  action  of  His  in  shielding 
His  disciples  as  the  symbol  of  what  we  all  may  expect 
He  will  do  for  ourselves.  In  all  matters  between  God 
and  us  He  interposes  and  claims  to  be  counted  as  the 
true  Head  who  is  accountable,  as  that  One  who  desires 
to  answer  all  charges  that  can  be  made  against  the  rest 
of  us.  If  therefore,  in  view  of  much  duty  left  undone, 
of  many  sinful  imaginings  harboured,  of  much  vileness 
of  conduct  and  character,  we  feel  that  it  is  ourselves 


270  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

the  eye  of  God  is  seeking  and  with  us  He  means  to 
take  account;  if  we  know  not  how  to  answer  Him 
regarding  many  things  that  stick  in  our  memory  and 
conscience, — let  us  accept  the  assurance  here  given  us 
that  Christ  presents  Himself  as  responsible. 

It  is  not  without  surprise  that  we  read  that  when 
Jesus  was  arrested  all  the  disciples  forsook  Him  and 
fled.  John,  indeed,  and  Peter  speedily  recovered  them- 
selves and  followed  to  the  hall  of  judgment ;  and  the 
others  may  not  only  have  felt  that  they  were  in  danger 
so  long  as  they  remained  in  His  company,  but  also 
that  by  accompanying  Him  th'ey  could  not  mend 
matters.  Still,  the  kind  of  loyalty  that  stands  by  a 
falling  cause,  and  the  kind  of  courage  that  risks  all  to 
show  sympathy  with  a  friend  or  leader,  are  qualities  so 
very  common  that  one  would  have  expected  to  find 
them  here.  And  no  doubt  had  the  matter  been  to  be 
decided  in  Peter's  fashion,  by  the  sword,  they  would 
have  stood  by  Him.  But  there  was  a  certain  mysteri- 
ousness  about  our  Lord's  purpose  that  prevented  His 
followers  from  being  quite  sure  where  they  were  being 
led  to.  They  were  perplexed  and  staggered  by  the 
whole  transaction.  They  had  expected  things  to  go 
differently  and  scarcely  knew  what  they  were  doing 
when  they  fled. 

There  are  times  when  we  feel  a  slackening  of  devotion 
to  Christ,  times  when  we  are  doubtful  whether  we  have 
not  been  misled,  times  when  the  bond  between  us  and 
Him  seems  to  be  of  the  slenderest  possible  description, 
times  when  we  have  as  truly  forsaken  Him  as  these 
disciples,  and  are  running  no  risks  for  Him,  doing 
nothing  to  advance  His  interests,  seeking  only  our 
own  comfort  and  our  own  safety.  These  times  will 
frequently  be   found  to  be  the  result  of  disappointed 


xviii.  1-14.]  THE  ARREST.  271 

expectations.  Things  have  not  gone  with  us  in  the 
spiritual  Hfe  as  we  expected.  We  have  found  things 
altogether  more  difficult  than  we  looked  for.  We  do 
not  know  what  to  make  of  our  present  state  nor  what 
to  expect  in  the  future,  and  so  we  lose  an  active  interest 
in  Christ  and  fall  away  from  any  hope  that  is  living  and 
influential. 

Another  point  which  John  evidently  desires  to  bring 
prominently  before  us  in  this  narrative  is  Christ's  will- 
ingness to  surrender  Himself;  the  voluntary  character 
of  all  He  afterwards  suffered.  It  was  at  this  point  of 
His  career,  at  His  ■apprehension,  this  could  best  be 
brought  out.  Afterwards  He  might  say  He  suffered 
willingly,  but  so  far  as  appearances  went  He  had  no 
option.  Previous  to  His  apprehension  His  professions 
of  willingness  would  not  have  been  attended  to.  It 
was  precisely  now  that  it  could  be  seen  whether  He 
would  flee,  hide,  resist,  or  calmly  yield  Himself.  And 
John  is  careful  to  bring  out  His  willingness.  He  went 
to  the  garden  as  usual,  "  knowing  all  things  that  should 
come  upon  Him."  It  would  have  been  easy  to  seek 
some  safer  quarters  for  the  night,  but  He  would  not. 
At  the  last  moment  escape  from  the  garden  could  not 
have  been  impossible.  His  followers  could  have  covered 
His  retreat.  But  He  advances  to  meet  the  party,  avows 
Himself  to  be  the  man  they  sought,  will  not  suffer  Peter 
to  use  his  sword,  in  every  way  shows  that  His  sur- 
render is  voluntary.  Still,  had  He  not  shown  His 
power  to  escape,  onlookers  might  have  thought  this 
was  only  the  prudent  conduct  of  a  brave  man  who 
wished  to  preserve  His  dignity,  and  therefore  preferred 
delivering  Himself  up  to  being  ignominiously  dragged 
from  a  hiding-place.  Therefore  it  was  made  plain  that 
if  He  yielded  it  was  not  for  want  of  power  to  resist. 


272  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

By  a  word  He  overthrew  those  who  came  to  bind  Him, 
and  made  them  feel  ashamed  of  their  preparations. 
He  spoke  confidently  of  help  that  would  have  swept 
the  cohort  off  the  field.^  And  thus  it  was  brought  out 
that,  if  He  died,  He  laid  down  His  life  and  was  not 
deprived  of  it  solely  by  the  hate  and  violence  of  men. 
The  hate  and  violence  were  there ;  but  they  were  not 
the  sole  factors.  He  yielded  to  these  because  they 
were  ingredients  in  the  cup  His  Father  wished  Him 
to  drink. 

The  reason  of  this  is  obvious.  Christ's  life  was  to 
be  all  sacrifice,  because  self-sacrifice  is  the  essence  of 
holiness  and  of  love.  From  beginning  to  end  the 
moving  spring  of  all  His  actions  was  deliberate  self- 
devotement  to  the  good  of  men  or  to  the  fulfilment  of 
God's  will ;  for  these  are  equivalents.  And  His  death 
as  the  crowning  act  of  this  career  was  to  be  con- 
spicuously a  death  embodying  and  exhibiting  the  spirit 
of  self-sacrifice.  He  offered  Himself  on  the  cross 
through  the  eternal  Spirit.  That  death  was  not  com- 
pulsory ;  it  was  not  the  outcome  of  a  sudden  whim  or 
generous  impulse ;  it  was  the  expression  of  a  constant 
uniform  "eternal"  Spirit,  which  on  the  cross,  in  the 
yielding  of  life  itself,  rendered  up  for  men  all  that 
was  possible.  Unwillingly  no  sacrifice  can  be  made. 
When  a  man  is  taxed  to  support  the  poor,  we  do  not 
call  that  a  sacrifice.  Sacrifice  must  be  free,  loving, 
uncompelled ;  it  must  be  the  exhibition  in  act  of  love, 
the  freest  and  most  spontaneous  of  all  human  emotions. 
"  It  is  a  true  Christian  instinct  in  our  language  which 
has  seized  upon  the  word  sacrifice  to  express  the  self- 
devotion  prompted  by  an  unselfish  love  for  others  :  we 

'  Matt.  xxvi.  53. 


xviii.  1-14.]  THE   ARREST.  273 

speak  of  the  sacrifices  made  by  a  loving  wife  or  mother ; 
and  we  test  the  sincerity  of  a  Christian  by  the  sacrifices 
he  will  make  for  the  love  of  Christ  and  the  brethren.  .  .  , 
The  reason  why  Christianity  has  approved  itself  a  living 
principle  of  regeneration  to  the  world  is  specially  because 
a  Divine  example  and  a  Divine  spirit  of  self-sacrifice 
have  wrought  together  in  the  hearts  of  men,  and  thereby 
an  ever-increasing  number  have  been  quickened  with 
the  desire  and  strengthened  with  the  will  to  spend  and 
be  spent  for  the  cleansing,  the  restoration,  and  the  life 
of  the  most  guilty,  miserable,  and  degraded  of  their 
fellows."  It  was  in  Christ's  life  and  death  this  great 
principle  of  the  life  of  God  and  man  was  affirmed :  there 
self-sacrifice  is  perfectly  exhibited. 

It  is  to  this  willingness  of  Christ  to  suffer  we  must 
ever  turn.  It  is  this  voluntary,  uncompelled,  spon- 
taneous devotion  of  Himself  to  the  good  of  men  which 
is  the  magnetic  point  in  this  earth.  Here  is  something 
we  can  cleave  to  with  assurance,  something  we  can 
trust  and  build  upon.  Christ  in  His  own  sovereign 
freedom  of  will  and  impelled  by  love  of  us  has  given 
Himself  to  work  out  our  perfect  deliverance  from  sin 
and  evil  of  every  kind.  Let  us  deal  sincerely  with 
Him,  let  us  be  in  earnest  about  these  matters,  let  us 
hope  truly  in  Him,  let  us  give  Him  time  to  conquer 
by  moral  means  all  our  moral  foes  within  and  without, 
and  we  shall  one  day  enter  into  His  joy  and  His 
triumph. 

But  when  we  thus  apply  John's  words  we  are  haunted 
with  a  suspicion  that  they  were  perhaps  not  intended 
to  be  thus  used.  Is  John  justified  in  finding  in  Christ's 
surrender  of  Himself  to  the  authorities,  on  condition 
that  the  disciples  should  escape,  fulfilment  of  the  words 
that  of  those  whom  God  had  given  Him  He  had  lost 

VOL.   II  18 


274  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

none  ?  The  actual  occurrence  we  see  here  is  Jesus 
arrested  as  a  false  Messiah,  and  claiming  to  be  the 
sole  culprit  if  any  culprit  there  be.  Is  this  an  occur- 
rence that  has  any  bearing  upon  us  or  any  special 
instruction  regarding  the  substitution  of  a  sin-bearer 
in  our  room  ?  Can  it  mean  that  He  alone  bears  the 
punishment  of  our  sin  and  that  we  go  free  ?  Is  it  any 
more  than  an  illustration  of  His  substitutionary  work, 
one  instance  out  of  many  of  His  habit  of  self-devotion 
in  the  room  of  others  ?  Can  I  build  upon  this  act  in 
the  Garden  of  Gethsemane  and  conclude  from  it  that 
He  surrenders  Himself  that  I  may  escape  punishment  ? 
Can  I  legitimately  gather  from  it  anything  more  than 
another  proof  of  His  constant  readiness  to  stand  in  the 
breach  ?  It  is  plain  enough  that  a  person  who  acted 
as  Christ  did  here  is  one  we  could  trust ;  but  had  this 
action  any  special  virtue  as  the  actual  substitution  of 
Christ  in  our  room  as  sin-bearer  ? 

It  is,  I  think,  well  that  we  should  occasionally  put 
to  ourselves  such  questions  and  train  ourselves  to  look 
at  the  events  of  Christ's  life  as  actual  occurrences,  and 
to  distinguish  between  what  is  fanciful  and  what  is 
real.  So  much  has  been  said  and  written  regarding 
His  work,  it  has  been  the  subject  of  so  much  senti- 
ment, the  basis  of  so  many  conflicting  theories,  the 
text  of  so  much  loose  and  allegorising  interpretation, 
that  the  original  plain  and  substantial  fact  is  apt  to 
be  overlaid  and  lost  sight  of.  And  yet  it  is.  that  plain 
and  substantial  reaUty  which  has  virtue  for  us,  while 
all  else  is  delusive,  howsoever  finely  sentimental,  how- 
soever rich  in  coincidences  with  Old  Testament  sayings 
or  in  suggestions  of  ingenious  doctrine.  The  subject 
of  substitution  is  obscure.  Inquiry  into  the  Atonement 
is  like  the  search  for  the  North  Pole :  approach  it  from 


xviii.  I-I4.]  THE  ARREST.  275 

what  quarter  we  may,  there  are  unmistakable  indications 
that  a  finality  exists  in  that  direction  ;  but  to  make  our 
way  to  it  and  take  a  survey  all  round  it  at  once  is  still 
beyond  us.  We  must  be  content  if  we  can  correct 
certain  variations  of  the  compass  and  find  so  much  as 
one  open  waterway  through  which  our  own  little  vessel 
can  be  steered. 

Looking,  then,  at  this  surrender  of  Christ  in  the  light 
of  John's  comment,  we  see  clearly  enough  that  Christ 
sought  to  shelter  His  disciples  at  His  own  expense, 
and  that  this  must  have  been  the  habit  of  His  life.  He 
sought  no  companion  in  misfortune.  His  desire  was 
to  save  others  from  suffering.  This  willingness  to  be 
the  responsible  party  was  the  habit  of  His  life.  It  is 
impossible  to  think  of  Christ  as  in  any  matter  shelter- 
ing Himself  behind  any  man  or  taking  a  second  place. 
He  is  always  ready  to  bear  the  burden  and  the  brunt. 
We  recognise  in  this  action  of  Christ  that  we  have  to 
do  with  One  who  shirks  nothing,  fears  nothing,  grudges 
nothing  ;  who  will  substitute  Himself  for  others  wher- 
ever possible,  if  danger  is  abroad.  So  far  as  the 
character  and  habit  of  Christ  go,  there  is  unquestion- 
ably here  manifest  a  good  foundation  for  His  substitu- 
tion in  our  stead  wheresoever  such  substitution  is 
possible. 

It  is  also  in  this  scene,  probably  more  than  in  any 
other,  that  we  see  that  the  work  Christ  had  come  to  do 
was  one  which  He  must  do  entirely  by  Himself.  It 
is  scarcely  exaggeration  to  say  He  could  employ  no 
assistant  even  in  its  minor  details.  He  did  indeed 
send  forth  men  to  proclaim  His  kingdom,  but  it  was  to 
proclaim  what  He  alone  did.  In  His  miracles  He  did 
not  use  His  disciples  as  a  surgeon  uses  His  assistants. 
Here  in  the  garden  He  explicitly  puts  the  disciples 


276  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

aside  and  says  that  this  question  of  the  Messiahship  is 
solely  His  affair.  This  separate,  solitary  character  of 
Christ's  work  is  important :  it  reminds  us  of  the  excep- 
tional dignity  and  greatness  of  it ;  it  reminds  us  of  the 
unique  insight  and  power  possessed  by  Him  who  alone 
conceived  and  carried  it  through. 

There  is  no  question,  then,  of  Christ's  willingness  to 
be  our  substitute  ;  the  question  rather  is,  Is  it  possible 
that  He  should  suffer  for  our  sin  and  so  save  us  from 
suffering  ?  and  does  this  scene  in  the  garden  help  us 
to  answer  that  question  ?  That  this  scene,  in  common 
with  the  whole  work  of  Christ,  had  a  meaning  and 
relations  deeper  than  those  that  appear  on  the  surface 
none  of  us  doubts.  The  soldiers  who  arrested  Him, 
the  judges  who  condemned  Him,  saw  nothing  but  the 
humble  and  meek  prisoner,  the  bar  of  the  Sanhedrim, 
the  stripes  of  the  Roman  scourge,  the  material  cross 
and  nails  and  blood ;  but  all  this  had  relations  of 
infinite  reach,  meaning  of  infinite  depth.  Through  all 
that  Christ  did  and  suffered  God  was  accomplishing  the 
greatest  of  His  designs,  and  if  we  miss  this  Divine 
intention  we  miss  the  essential  significance  of  these 
events.  The  Divine  intention  was  to  save  us  from  sin 
and  give  us  eternal  life.  This  is  accomplished  by 
Christ's  surrender  of  Himself  to  this  earthly  life  and  all 
the  anxiety,  the  temptation,  the  mental  and  spiritual 
strain  which  this  involved.  By  revealing  the  Father's 
love  to  us  He  wins  us  back  to  the  Father ;  and  the 
Father's  love  was  revealed  in  the  self-sacrificing  suffer- 
ing He  necessarily  endured  in  numbering  Himself  with 
sinners.  Of  Christ's  satisfying  the  law  by  suffering 
the  penalty  under  which  we  lay  Paul  has  much  to  say. 
He  explicitly  affirms  that  Christ  bore  and  so  abolished 
the  curse  or  penalty  of  sin.     But  in  this  Gospel  there 


xviii.  1-14.]  THE  ARREST.  277 

may  indeed  be  hints  of  this  same  idea,  but  it  is  mainly 
another  aspect  of  the  work  of  Christ  which  is  here 
presented.  It  is  the  exhibition  of  Christ's  self-sacri- 
ficing love  as  a  revelation  of  the  Father  which  is  most 
prominent  in  the  mind  of  John. 

We  can  certainly  say  that  Christ  suffered  our  penal- 
ties in  so  far  as  a  perfectly  holy  person  can  suffer  them. 
The  gnawing  anguish  of  remorse  He  never  knew  ;  the 
haunting  anxieties  of  the  wrong-doer  were  impossible  to 
Him ;  the  torment  of  ungratified  desire,  eternal  sever- 
ance from  God,  He  could  not  suffer ;  but  other  results 
and  penalties  of  sin  He  suffered  more  intensely  than  is 
possible  to  us.  The  agony  of  seeing  men  He  loved 
destroyed  by  sin,  all  the  pain  which  a  sympathetic  and 
,pure  spirit  must  bear  in  a  world  like  this,  the  contra- 
diction of  sinners,  the  provocation  and  shame  which 
daily  attended  Him — all  this  He  bore  because  of  sin  and 
for  us,  that  we  might  be  saved  from  lasting  sin  and 
unrelieved  misery.  So  that  even  if  we  cannot  take  this 
scene  in  the  garden  as  an  exact  representation  of  the 
whole  substitutionary  work  of  Christ,  we  can  say  that 
by  suffering  with  and  for  us  He  has  saved  us  from  sin 
and  restored  us  to  life  and  to  God. 


XVIII. 

PETER'S  DENIAL  AND  REPENTANCE. 


279 


"  So  the  band  and  the  chief  captain,  and  the  officers  of  the  Jews, 
seized  Jesus  and  bound  Him,  and  led  Him  to  Annas  first ;  for  he  was 
father-in-law  to  Caiaphas,  which  was  high  priest  that  year.  Now 
Caiaphas  was  he  which  gave  counsel  to  the  Jews,  that  it  was  expedient 
that  one  man  should  die  for  the  people.  And  Simon  Peter  followed 
Jesus,  and  so  did  another  disciple.  Now  that  disciple  was  known  unto 
the  high  priest,  and  entered  in  with  Jesus  into  the  court  of  the  high 
priest ;  but  Peter  was  standing  at  the  door  without.  So  the  other 
disciple,  which  was  known  unto  the  high  priest,  went  out  and  spake 
unto  her  that  kept  the  door,  and  brought  in  Peter.  The  maid  there- 
fore that  kept  the  door  saith  unto  Peter,  Art  thou  also  one  of  this  man's 
disciples?  He  saith,  I  am  not.  Now  the  servants  and  the  officers 
were  standing  there,  having  made  a  fire  of  coals  ;  for  it  was  cold  ;  and 
they  were  warming  themselves :  and  Peter  also  was  with  them,  standing 
and  warming  himself.  .  .  ,  Now  Simon  Peter  was  standing  and  warm- 
ing himself.  They  said  therefore  unto  him,  Art  thou  also  one  of  His 
disciples?  He  denied,  and  said,  I  am  not.  One  of  the  servants  of  the 
high  priest,  being  a  kinsman  of  him  whose  ear  Peter  cut  off,  saith, 
Did  not  I  see  thee  in  the  garden  with  Him  ?  Peter  therefore  denied 
again  :  and  straightway  the  cock  crew.' — ^John  xviii.  12-18,  25-27. 


280 


XVIII. 

PETERS  DENIAL  AND  REPENTANCE. 

THE  examination  of  Jesus  immediately  followed 
His  arrest.  He  was  first  led  to  Annas,  who  at 
once  sent  Him  to  Caiaphas,  the  high  priest,  that  he 
might  carry  out  his  policy  of  making  one  man  a  scape- 
goat for  the  nation.^  To  John  the  most  memorable 
incident  of  this  midnight  hour  was  Peter's  denial  of 
his  Master.  It  happened  on  this  wise.  The  high 
priest's  palace  was  built,  like  other  large  Oriental 
houses,  round  a  quadrangular  court,  into  which  entrance 
was  gained  by  a  passage  running  from  the  street 
through  the  front  part  of  the  house.  This  passage  or 
archway  is  called  in  the  Gospels  the  "  porch,"  and  was 
closed  at  the  end  next  the  street  by  a  heavy  folding 
gate  with  a  wicket  for  single  persons.     This  wicket 


'  There  is  a  difficulty  in  tracing  the  movements  of  Jesus  at  this  point. 
John  tells  us  He  was  led  to  Annas  first,  and  at  ver.  24  he  says  that 
Annas  sent  Him  to  Caiaphas.  We  should  naturally  conclude,  therefore, 
that  the  preceding  examination  was  conducted  by  Annas.  But  Caiaphas 
has  been  expressly  indicated  as  chief  priest,  and  it  is  by  the  chief  priest 
and  in  the  chief  priest's  palace  the  examination  is  conducted.  The 
name  ' '  chief  priest  "  was  not  confined  to  the  one  actually  in  office,  but 
was  applied  to  all  who  had  held  the  office,  and  might  therefore  be  applied 
to  Annas.  Possibly  the  examination  recorded  vv.  19-23  was  before 
him,  and  probably  he  was  living  with  his  son-in-law  in  the  palace  of  the 
chief  priest. 

281 


282  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

was  kept  on  this  occasion  by  a  maid.  The  interior 
court  upon  which  this  passage  opened  was  paved  or 
flagged  and  open  to  the  sky,  and  as  the  night  was  cold 
the  attendants  had  made  a  fire  here.  The  rooms 
round  the  court,  in  one  of  which  the  examination  of 
Jesus  was  proceeding,  were  open  in  front — separated, 
that  is  to  say,  from  the  court  only  by  one  or  two  pillars 
or  arches  and  a  railing,  so  that  our  Lord  could  see  and 
even  hear  Peter. 

When  Jesus  was  led  in  bound  to  this  palace,  there 
entered  with  the  crowd  of  soldiers  and  servants  one 
at  least  of  His  disciples.  He  was  in  some  way  ac- 
quainted with  the  high  priest,  and  presuming  on  this 
acquaintanceship  followed  to  learn  the  fate  of  Jesus. 
He  had  seen  Peter  following  at  a  distance,  and  after 
a  little  he  goes  to  the  gate-keeper  and  induces  her 
to  open  to  his  friend.  The  maid  seeing  the  familiar 
terms  on  which  these  two  men  were,  and  knowing  that 
one  of  them  was  a  disciple  of  Jesus,  very  naturally 
greets  Peter  with  the  exclamation,  "  Art  not  thou 
also  one  of  this  man's  disciples  ?  "  Peter,  confused  by 
being  suddenly  confronted  with  so  many  hostile  faces, 
and  remembering  the  blow  he  had  struck  in  the  garden, 
and  that  he  was  now  in  the  place  of  all  others  where 
it  was  likely  to  be  avenged,  suddenly  in  a  moment  of 
infatuation,  and  doubtless  to  the  dismay  of  his  fellow- 
disciple,  denies  all  knowledge  of  Jesus.  Having  once 
committed  himself,  the  two  other  denials  followed  as 
matter  of  course. 

Yet  the  third  denial  is  more  guilty  than  the  first. 
Many  persons  are  conscious  that  they  have  sometimes 
acted  under  what  seems  an  infatuation.  They  do  not 
plead  this  in  excuse  for  the  wrong  they  have  done. 
They  are  quite  aware  that  what  has  come  out  of  them 


xviii.  12-18, 25-27.]  PETER'S  DENIAL  AND  REPENTANCE.  283 

must  have  been  in  them,  and  that  their  acts,  un- 
accountable as  they  seem,  have  definite  roots  in  their 
character.  Peter's  first  denial  was  the  result  of  sur- 
prise and  infatuation.  But  an  hour  seems  to  have 
elapsed  between  the  first  and  the  third.  He  had  time 
to  think,  time  to  remember  his  Lord's  warning,  time 
to  leave  the  place  if  he  could  do  no  better.  But  one 
of  those  reckless  moods  which  overtake  good-hearted 
children  seems  to  have  overtaken  Peter,  for  at  the  end 
of  the  hour  he  is  talking  right  round  the  whole  circle 
at  the  fire,  not  in  monosyllables  and  guarded  voice,  but 
in  his  own  outspoken  way,  the  most  talkative  of  them 
all,  until  suddenly  one  whose  ear  was  finer  than  the 
rest  detected  the  Galilean  accent,  and  says,  "  You  need 
not  deny  you  are  one  of  this  man's  disciples,  for  your 
speech  betrays  you."  Another,  a  kinsman  of  him 
whose  ear  Peter  had  cut  off,  strikes  in  and  declares 
that  he  had  seen  him  in  the  garden.  Peter,  driven  to 
extremities,  hides  his  Galilean  accent  under  the  strong 
oaths  of  the  city,  and  with  a  volley  of  profane  language 
asseverates  that  he  has  no  knowledge  of  Jesus.  At 
this  moment  the  first  examination  of  Jesus  closes  and 
He  is  led  across  the  court :  the  first  chill  of  dawn  is  felt 
in  the  air,  a  cock  crows,  and  as  Jesus  passes  He  looks 
upon  Peter ;  the  look  and  the  cock-crow  together 
bring  Peter  to  himself,  and  he  hurries  out  and  weeps 
bitterly. 

The  remarkable  feature  of  this  sin  of  Peter's  is  that 
at  first  sight  it  seems  so  alien  to  his  character.  It  was 
a  lie ;  and  he  was  unusually  straightforward.  It  was 
a  heartless  and  cruel  lie,  and  he  was  a  man  full  of 
emotion  and  affection.  It  was  a  cowardly  lie,  even 
more  cowardly  than  common  lies,  and  yet  he  was 
exceptionally   bold.     Peter  himself  was  quite  positive 


284  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

that  this  at  least  was  a  sin  he  would  never  commit. 
"Though  all  men  should  deny  Thee,  yet  will  not  I." 
Neither  was  this  a  baseless  boast.  He  was  not  a  mere 
braggart,  whose  words  found  no  correspondence  in 
his  deeds.  Far  from  it ;  he  was  a  hardy,  somewhat 
over-venturesome  man,  accustomed  to  the  risks  of  a 
fisherman's  life,  not  afraid  to  fling  himself  into  a  stormy 
sea,  or  to  face  the  overwhelming  armed  force  that  came 
to  apprehend  his  Master,  ready  to  fight  for  him  single- 
handed,  and  quickly  recovering  from  the  panic  which 
scattered  his  fellow-disciples.  If  any  of  his  companions 
had  been  asked  at  what  point  of  Peter's  character  the 
vulnerable  spot  would  be  found,  not  one  of  them  would 
have  said,  *'  He  will  fall  through  cowardice."  Besides, 
Peter  had  a  few  hours  before  been  so  emphatically 
warned  against  denying  Christ  that  he  might  have 
been  expected  to  stand  firm  this  night  at  least. 

Perhaps  it  was  this  very  warning  which  betrayed 
Peter.  When  he  struck  the  blow  in  the  garden,  he 
thought  he  had  falsified  his  Lord's  prediction.  And 
when  he  found  himself  the  only  one  who  had  courage 
to  follow  to  the  palace,  his  besetting  self-confidence 
returned  and  led  him  into  circumstances  for  which  he 
was  too  weak.  He  was  equal  to  the  test  of  his  courage 
which  he  was  expecting,  but  when  another  kind  of  test 
was  applied  in  circumstances  and  from  a  quarter  he 
had  not  anticipated  his  courage  failed  him  utterly. 

Peter  probably  thought  he  might  be  brought  bound 
with  his  Master  before  the  high  priest,  and  had  he  been 
so  he  would  probably  have  stood  faithful.  But  the 
devil  who  was  sifting  him  had  a  much  finer  sieve  than 
that  to  run  him  through.  He  brought  him  to  no  formal 
trial,  where  he  could  gird  himself  for  a  special  effort, 
but  to  an  unobserved,  casual  questioning  by  a  slave- 


xviii.  12-18,25-27.]  PETER'S  DENIAL  AND  REPENTANCE.  285 

girl.  The  whole  trial  was  over  before  he  knew  he 
was  being  tried.  So  do  our  most  real  trials  come; 
in  a  business  transaction  that  turns  up  with  others 
in  the  day's  work,  in  the  few  minutes'  talk  or  the 
evening's  intercourse  with  friends,  it  is  discovered 
whether  we  are  so  truly  Christ's  friends  that  we  cannot 
forget  Him  or  disguise  that  we  are  His.  A  word  or 
two  with  a  person  he  never  saw  before  and  would 
never  see  again  brought  the  great  trial  of  Peter's 
life ;  and  as  unexpectedly  shall  we  be  tried.  In  these 
battles  we  must  all  encounter,  we  receive  no  formal 
challenge  that  gives  us  time  to  choose  our  ground 
and  our  weapons ;  but  a  sudden  blow  is  dealt  us,  from 
which  we  can  be  saved  only  by  habitually  wearing 
a  shirt  of  mail  sufficient  to  turn  it,  and  which  we  can 
carry  into  all  companies. 

Had  Peter  distrusted  himself  and  seriously  accepted 
his  Lord's  warning,  he  would  have  gone  with  the  rest ; 
but  ever  thinking  of  himself  as  able  to  do  more  than 
other  men,  faithful  where  others  were  faithless,  con- 
vinced where  others  hesitated,  daring  where  others 
shrank,  he  once  again  thrust  himself  forward,  and  so 
fell.  For  this  self-confidence,  which  might  to  a  careless 
observer  seem  to  underprop  Peter's  courage,  was  to 
the  eye  of  the  Lord  undermining  it.  And  if  Peter's 
true  bravery  and  promptitude  were  to  serve  the  Church 
in  days  when  fearless  steadfastness  would  be  above 
all  other  qualities  needed,  his  courage  must  be  sifted 
and  the  chaif  of  self-confidence  thoroughly  separated 
from  it.  In  place  of  a  courage  which  was  sadly  tainted 
with  vanity  and  impulsiveness  Peter  must  acquire  a 
courage  based  upon  recognition  of  his  own  weakness 
and  his  Lord's  strength.  And  it  was  this  event  which 
wrought  this  change  in  Peter's  character. 


286  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

Frequently  we  learn  by  a  very  painful  experience 
that  our  best  qualities  are  tainted,  and  that  actual 
disaster  has  entered  our  life  from  the  very  quarter 
we  least  suspected.  We  may  be  conscious  that  the 
deepest  mark  has  been  made  on  our  life  by  a  sin 
apparently  as  ahen  to  our  character  as  cowardice  and 
lying  were  to  the  too  venturesome  and  outspoken  cha- 
racter of  Peter.  Possibly  we  once  prided  ourselves  on 
our  honesty,  and  felt  happy  in  our  upright  character, 
plain-dealing,  and  direct  speech;  but  to  our  dismay 
we  have  been  betrayed  into  double-dealing,  equivoca- 
tion, evasive  or  even  fraudulent  conduct.  Or  the  time 
was  when  we  were  proud  of  our  friendships ;  it  was 
frequently  in  our  mind  that,  however  unsatisfactory  in 
other  respects  our  character  might  be,  we  were  at  any 
rate  faithful  and  helpful  friends.  Alas !  events  have 
proved  that  even  in  this  particular  we  have  failed,  and 
have,  through  absorption  in  our  own  interests,  acted 
inconsiderately  and  even  cruelly  to  our  friend,  not  even 
recognising  at  the  time  how  his  interests  were  suffering. 
Or  we  are  by  nature  of  a  cool  temperament,  and  judged 
ourselves  safe  at  least  from  the  faults  of  impulse  and 
passion  ;  yet  the  mastering  combination  of  circumstances 
came,  and  we  spoke  the  word,  or  wrote  the  letter,  or 
did  the  deed  which  broke  our  life  past  mending. 

Now,  it  was  Peter's  salvation,  and  it  will  be  ours, 
when  overtaken  in  this  unsuspected  sin,  to  go  out  and 
weep  bitterly.  He  did  not  frivolously  count  it  an 
accident  that  could  never  occur  again ;  he  did  not 
sullenly  curse  the  circumstances  that  had  betrayed  and 
shamed  him.  He  recognised  that  there  was  that  in 
him  which  could  render  useless  his  best  natural  qualities, 
and  that  the  sinfulness  which  could  make  his  strongest 
natural  defences  brittle  as  an  egg-shell  must  be  serious 


xviii.  12-18,25-27.]  PETER'S  DENIAL  AND  REPENTANCE.  287 

indeed.  He  had  no  choice  but  to  be  humbled  before 
the  eye  of  the  Lord.  There  was  no  need  of  words  to 
explain  and  enforce  his  guilt :  the  eye  can  express  what 
the  tongue  cannot  utter.  The  finer,  tenderer,  deeper 
feelings  are  left  to  the  eye  to  express.  The  clear  cock- 
crow strikes  home  to  his  conscience,  telling  him  that  the 
very  sin  he  had  an  hour  or  two  ago  judged  impossible 
is  now  actually  committed.  That  brief  space  his  Lord 
had  named  as  sufficient  to  test  his  fidelity  is  gone,  and 
the  sound  that  strikes  the  hour  rings  with  condemna- 
tion. Nature  goes  on  in  her  accustomed,  inexorable, 
unsympathetic  round  ;  but  he  is  a  fallen  man,  convicted 
in  his  own  conscience  of  empty  vanity,  of  cowardice, 
of  heartlessness.  He  who  in  his  own  eyes  was  so 
much  better  than  the  rest  had  fallen  lower  than  all. 
In  the  look  of  Christ  Peter  sees  the  reproachful  loving 
tenderness  of  a  wounded  spirit,  and  understands  the 
dimensions  of  his  sin.  That  he,  the  most  intimate 
disciple,  should  have  added  to  the  bitterness  of  that 
hour,  should  not  only  have  failed  to  help  his  Lord, 
but  should  actually  at  the  crisis  of  His  fate  have  added 
the  bitterest  drop  to  His  cup,  was  humbling  indeed. 
There  was  that  in  Christ's  look  that  made  him  feel 
the  enormity  of  his  guilt ;  there  was  that  also  that 
softened  him  and  saved  him  from  sullen  despair. 

And  it  is  obvious  that  if  we  are  to  rise  clear  above  the 
sin  that  has  betrayed  us  we  can  do  so  only  by  as  lowly  a 
penitence.  We  are  all  ahke  in  this:  that  we  have  fallen  ; 
we  cannot  any  more  with  justice  think  highly  of  our- 
selves ;  we  have  sinned  and  are  disgraced  in  our  own 
eyes.  In  this,  I  say,  we  are  all  alike;  that  which  makes 
the  diiference  among  us  is,  how  we  deal  with  ourselves 
and  our  circumstances  in  connection  with  our  sin.  It 
has  been  very  well  said  by  a  keen  observer  of  human 


288  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

nature  that  "  men  and  women  are  often  more  fairly  judged 
by  the  way  in  which  they  bear  the  burden  of  their  own 
deeds,  the  fashion  in  which  they  carry  themselves  in 
their  entanglements,  than  by  the  prime  act  which  laid 
the  burden  on  their  lives  and  made  the  entanglement 
fast  knotted.  The  deeper  part  of  us  shows  in  the 
manner  of  accepting  consequences."  The  reason  of 
this  is  that,  like  Peter,  we  are  often  betrayed  by  a  weak- 
ness ;  the  part  of  our  nature  which  is  least  able  to 
face  difficulty  is  assaulted  by  a  combination  of  circum- 
stances which  may  never  again  occur  in  our  life.  There 
was  guilt,  great  guilt  it  may  be,  concerned  in  our  fall, 
but  it  was  not  deliberate,  wilful  wickedness.  But  in  our 
dealing  with  our  sin  and  its  consequences  our  whole 
nature  is  concerned  and  searched ;  the  real  bent  and 
strength  of  our  will  is  tried.  We  are  therefore  in  a 
crisis,  the  crisis,  of  our  life.  Can  we  accept  the  situa- 
tion ?  Can  we  humbly,  frankly  own  that,  since  that  evil 
has  appeared  in  our  life,  it  must  have  been,  however 
unconsciously,  in  ourselves  first  ?  Can  we  with  the 
genuine  manliness  and  wisdom  of  a  broken  heart  say 
to  ourselves  and  to  God,  Yes,  it  is  true  I  am  the 
wretched,  pitiful,  bad-hearted  creature  that  was  capable 
of  doing,  and  did  that  thing  ?  I  did  not  think  that  was 
my  character ;  I  did  not  think  it  was  in  me  to  sink  so 
very  low ;  but  now  I  see  what  I  am.  Do  we  thus,  like 
Peter,  go  out  and  weep  bitterly  ? 

Every  one  who  has  passed  through  a  time  such  as 
this  single  night  was  to  Peter  knows  the  strain  that  is 
laid  upon  the  soul,  and  how  very  hard  it  is  to  yield 
utterly.  So  much  rises  up  in  self-defence ;  so  much 
strength  is  lost  by  the  mere  perplexity  and  confusion 
of  the  thing ;  so  much  is  lost  in  the  despondency  that 
follows  these  sad  revelations  of  our  deep-seated  evil. 


xviii.  12-18,25-27.]  PETER'S  DENIAL  AND  REPENTANCE.  289 

What  is  the  use,  we  think,  of  striving,  if  even  in  the 
point  in  which  I  thought  myself  most  secure  I  have 
fallen  ?  What  is  the  meaning  of  so  perplexed  and 
deceiving  a  warfare  ?  Why  was  I  exposed  to  so  fatal  an 
influence  ?  So  Peter,  had  he  taken  the  wrong  direction, 
might  have  resented  the  whole  course  of  the  temp- 
tation, and  might  have  said.  Why  did  Christ  not  warn 
me  by  His  look  before  I  sinned,  instead  of  breaking 
me  by  it  after  ?  Why  had  I  no  inkling  of  the  enormity 
of  the  sin  before  as  I  have  after  the  sin  ?  My  reputa- 
tion now  is  gone  among  the  disciples ;  I  may  as  well  go 
back  to  my  old  obscure  life  and  forget  all  about  these 
perplexing  scenes  and  strange  spiritualities.  But  Peter, 
though  he  was  cowed  by  a  maid,  was  man  enough  and 
Christian  enough  to  reject  such  falsities  and  subter- 
fuges. It  is  true  we  did  not  see  the  enormity,  never 
do  see  the  enormity,  of  the  sin  until  it  is  committed  ; 
but  is  it  possible  it  can  be  otherwise  ?  Is  not  this  the 
way  in  which  a  blunt  conscience  is  educated  ?  Nothing 
seems  so  bad  until  it  finds  place  in  our  own  life  and 
haunts  us.  Neither  need  we  despond  or  sour  because 
we  are  disgraced  in  our  own  eyes,  or  even  in  the  eyes 
of  others;  for  we  are  hereby  summoned  to  build  for 
ourselves  a  new  and  different  reputation  with  God  and 
our  own  consciences — a  reputation  founded  on  a  basis 
of  reality  and  not  of  seeming. 

It  may  be  worth  while  to  note  the  characteristics 
and  danger  of  that  special  form  of  weakness  which 
Peter  here  exhibited.  We  commonly  call  it  moral 
cowardice.  It  is  originally  a  weakness  rather  than  a 
positive  sin,  and  yet  it  is  probably  as  prolific  of  sin  and 
even  of  great  crime  as  any  of  the  more  definite  and 
vigorous  passions  of  our  nature,  such  as  hate,  lust, 
avarice.     It  is  that  weakness  which  prompts  a  man  to 

VOL.  II.  19 


290  THE   GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

avoid  difficulties,  to  escape  everything  rough  and  dis- 
agreeable, to  yield  to  circumstances,  and  which  above 
all  makes  him  incapable  of  facing  the  reproach,  con- 
tempt, or  opposition  of  his  fellow-men.  It  is  often  found 
in  combination  with  much  amiability  of  character.  It 
is  commonly  found  in  persons  who  have  some  natural 
leanings  to  virtue,  and  who,  if  circumstances  would 
only  favour  them,  would  prefer  to  lead,  and  would  lead, 
at  least  an  inoffensive  and  respectable,  if  not  a  very 
useful,  noble,  or  heroic  life.  Finely  strung  natures 
that  are  very  sensitive  to  all  impressions  from  without, 
natures  which  thrill  and  vibrate  in  response  to  a  touch- 
ing tale  or  in  sympathy  with  fine  scenery  or  soft 
music,  natures  which  are  housed  in  bodies  of  dehcate 
nervous  temperament,  are  commonly  keenly  sensitive 
to  the  praise  or  blame  of  their  fellows,  and  are  there- 
fore liable  to  moral  cowardice,  though  by  no  means 
necessarily  a  prey  to  it. 

The  examples  of  its  ill-effects  are  daily  before  our 
eyes.  A  man  cannot  bear  the  coolness  of  a  friend  or 
the  contempt  of  a  leader  of  opinion,  and  so  he  stifles 
his  own  independent  judgment  and  goes  with  the 
majority.  A  minister  of  the  Church  finds  his  faith 
steadily  diverging  from  that  of  the  creed  he  has  sub- 
scribed, but  he  cannot  proclaim  this  change  because 
he  cannot  make  up  his  mind  to  be  the  subject  of  public 
astonishment  and  remark,  of  severe  scrutiny  on  the  one 
side  and  still  more  distasteful  because  ignorant  and 
canting  sympathy  on  the  other.  A  man  in  business 
finds  that  his  expenditure  exceeds  his  income,  but  he 
is  unable  to  face  the  shame  of  frankly  lowering  his 
position  and  curtailing  his  expenses,  and  so  he  is  led 
into  dishonest  appearances  ;  and  from  dishonest  appear- 
ances to  fraudulent  methods  of  keeping  them  up  the 


xviii.  12-18,25-27.]  PETERS  DENIAL  AND  REPENTANCE.   291 

step,  as  we  all  know,  is  short.  Or  in  trade  a  man 
knows  that  there  are  shameful,  contemptible,  and  silly 
practices,  and  yet  he  has  not  moral  courage  to  break 
through  them.  A  parent  cannot  bear  to  risk  the  loss  of 
his  child's  goodwill  even  for  an  hour,  and  so  omits  the 
chastisement  he  deserves.  The  schoolboy,  fearing  his 
parents'  look  of  disappointment,  says  he  stands  higher 
in  his  class  than  he  does  ;  or  fearing  to  be  thought  soft 
and  unmanly  by  his  schoolfellows,  sees  cruelty  or  a 
cheat  or  some  wickedness  perpetrated  without  a  word 
of  honest  anger  or  manly  condemnation.  All  this  is 
moral  cowardice,  the  vice  which  brings  us  down  to  the 
low  level  which  bold  sinners  set  for  us,  or  which  at 
any  rate  sweeps  the  weak  soul  down  to  a  thousand 
perils,  and  absolutely  forbids  the  good  there  is  in  us 
from  finding  expression. 

But  of  all  the  forms  into  which  moral  cowardice 
develops  this  of  denying  the  Lord  Jesus  is  the  most 
iniquitous  and  disgraceful.  One  of  the  fashions  of 
the  day  which  is  most  rapidly  extending  and  which 
many  of  us  have  opportunity  to  resist  is  the  fashion 
of  infidelity.  Much  of  the  strongest  and  best-trained 
intellect  of  the  country  ranges  itself  against  Chris- 
tianity— that  is,  against  Christ.  No  doubt  the  men 
who  have  led  this  movement  have  adopted  their 
opinions  on  conviction.  They  deny  the  authority  of 
Scripture,  the  divinity  of  Christ,  even  the  existence 
of  a  personal  God,  because  by  long  years  of  painful 
thought  they  have  been  forced  to  such  conclusions. 
Even  the  best  of  them  cannot  be  acquitted  of  a  con- 
temptuous and  bitter  way  of  speaking  of  Christians, 
which  would  seem  to  indicate  that  they  are  not  quite 
at  ease  in  their  belief.  Still,  we  cannot  but  think 
that  so  far  as  any  men  can  be  quite  unbiassed  in  their 


292  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

opinions,  they  are  so ;  and  we  have  no  right  to  judge 
other  men  for  their  honestly  formed  opinions.  The 
moral  cowards  of  whom  we  speak  are  not  these  men, 
but  their  followers,  persons  who  with  no  patience 
or  capacity  to  understand  their  reasonings  adopt  their 
conclusions  because  they  seem  advanced  and  are 
peculiar.  There  are  many  persons  of  slender  reading 
and  no  depth  of  earnestness  who,  without  spending 
any  serious  effort  on  the  formation  of  their  religious 
belief,  presume  to  disseminate  unbelief  and  treat  the 
Christian  creed  as  an  obsolete  thing  merely  because 
part  of  the  intellect  of  the  day  leans  in  that  direction. 
Weakness  and  cowardice  are  the  real  spring  of  such 
persons'  apparent  advance  and  new  position  regarding 
religion.  They  are  ashamed  to  be  reckoned  among 
those  who  are  thought  to  be  behind  the  age.  Ask 
them  for  a  reason  of  their  unbelief,  and  they  are  either 
unable  to  give  you  any,  or  else  they  repeat  a  time-worn 
objection  which  has  been  answered  so  often  that  men 
have  wearied  of  the  interminable  task  and  let  it  pass 
unnoticed. 

Such  persons  we  aid  and  abet  when  we  do  either 
of  two  things :  when  we  either  cleave  to  what  is  old 
as  unreasoningly  as  they  take  up  with  what  is  new, 
refusing  to  look  for  fresh  light  and  better  ways  and 
acting  as  if  we  were  already  perfect;  or  when  we 
yield  to  the  current  and  adopt  a  hesitating  way  of 
speaking  about  matters  of  faith,  when  we  cultivate 
a  sceptical  spirit  and  seem  to  connive  at  if  we  do  not 
applaud  the  cold,  irreligious  sneer  of  ungodly  men. 
Above  all,  we  aid  the  cause  of  infidelity  when  in  our 
own  life  we  are  ashamed  to  live  godly,  to  act  on 
higher  principles  than  the  current  prudential  maxims, 
when   we  hold    our  allegiance    to    Christ  in  abeyance 


xviii.  12-18,25-27.]  PETER'S  DENIAL  AND  REPENTANCE.  293 

to  our  fear  of  our  associates,  when  we  find  no  way  of 
showing  that  Christ  is  our  Lord  and  that  we  dehght 
in  opportunities  of  confessing  Him.  The  confessing 
of  Christ  is  a  duty  explicitly  imposed  on  all  those 
who  expect  that  He  will  acknowledge  them  as  His. 
It  is  a  duty  to  which  we  might  suppose  every  manly 
and  generous  instinct  in  us  would  eagerly  respond, 
and  yet  we  are  often  more  ashamed  of  our  connection 
with  the  loftiest  and  holiest  oi  beings  than  of  our  own 
pitiful  and  sin-infected  selves,  and  as  little  practically 
stimulated  and  actuated  by  a  true  gratitude  to  Him  as 
if  His  death  were  the  commonest  boon  and  as  if  we 
were  expecting  and  needing  no  help  from  Him  in  the 
time  that  is  yet  to  come.^ 

'  Some  of  the  ideas  in  this  chapter  were  suggested  by  a  sermon  of 
Bishop  Temple's. 


XIX. 

/ESUS  BEFORE  PILATE. 


295 


"They  led  Jesus  therefore  from  Caiaphas  into  the  palace:  and  it 
was  early  ;  and  they  themselves  entered  not  into  the  palace,  that  they 
might  not  be  defiled,  but  might  eat  the  Passover.  Pilate  therefore 
went  out  unto  them,  and  saith,  What  accusation  bring  ye  against  this 
man?  They  answered  and  said  unto  him,  If  this  man  were  not  an 
evil-doer,  we  should  not  have  delivered  Him  up  unto  thee.  Pilate 
therefore  said  unto  them,  Take  Him  yourselves,  and  judge  Him 
according  to  your  law.  The  Jews  said  unto  him.  It  is  not  lawful  for 
us  to  put  any  man  to  death  :  that  the  word  of  Jesus  might  be  fulfilled, 
which  He  spake,  signifying  by  what  manner  of  death  He  should  die. 
Pilate  therefore  entered  again  into  the  palace,  and  called  Jesus,  and 
said  unto  Him,  Art  Thou  the  King  of  the  Jews  ?  Jesus  answered, 
Sayest  thou  this  of  thyself,  or  did  others  tell  it  thee  concerning  Me  ? 
Pilate  answered,  Am  I  a  Jew?  Thine  own  nation  and  the  chief  priests 
delivered  Thee  unto  me  :  what  hast  Thou  done  ?  Jesus  answered,  My 
kingdom  is  not  of  this  world  :  if  My  kingdom  were  of  this  world, 
then  would  My  servants  fight,  that  I  should  not  be  dehvered  to  the 
Jews :  but  now  is  My  kingdom  not  from  hence.  Pilate  therefore  said 
unto  Him,  Art  Thou  a  king  then  ?  Jesus  answered,  Thou  sayest  that 
I  am  a  king.  To  this  end  have  I  been  born,  and  to  this  end  am  I 
come  into  the  world,  that  I  should  bear  witness  unto  the  truth.  Every 
one  that  is  of  the  truth  heareth  My  voice.  Pilate  saith  unto  Him, 
What  is  truth  ?  And  when  he  had  said  this,  he  went  out  again  unto 
the  Jews,  and  saith  unto  them,  I  find  no  crime  in  Him.  But  ye  have 
a  custom,  that  I  should  release  unto  you  one  at  the  Passover:  will  ye 
therefore  that  I  release  unto  you  the  King  of  the  Jews?  They  cried  out 
therefore  again,  saying,  Not  this  man,  but  Barabbas.  Now  Barabbas 
was  a  robber.  Then  Pilate  therefore  took  Jesus,  and  scourged  Him. 
And  the  soldiers  plaited  a  crown  of  thorns,  and  put  it  on  Plis  head, 
and  arrayed  Him  in  a  purple  garment ;  and  they  came  unto  Him,  and 
said,  Hail,  King  of  the  Jews  !  and  they  struck  Him  with  their  hands. 
And  Pilate  went  out  again,  and  saith  unto  them,  Behold  I  bring  Him 
out  to  you,  that  ye  may  know  that  I  find  no  crime  in  Him.  Jesus 
therefore  came  out,  wearing  the  crown  of  thorns  and  the  purple 
garment.     And  Pilate   saith  unto   them,    Behold,   the   man !     When 

297 


therefore  the  chief  priests  and  the  officers  saw  Him,  they  cried  out, 
saying,  Crucify  Him,  crucify  Him.  Pilate  saith  unto  them,  Take  Him 
yourselves,  and  crucify  Him  :  for  I  find  no  crime  in  Him.  The  Jews 
answered  him,  We  have  a  law,  and  by  that  law  He  ought  to  die, 
because  He  made  Himself  the  Son  of  God.  When  Pilate  therefore 
heard  this  saying  he  was  the  more  afraid  ;  and  he  entered  into  the 
palace  again,  and  saith  unto  Jesus,  Whence  art  Thou  ?  But  Jesus 
gave  him  no  answer.  Pilate  therefore  saith  unto  Him,  Speakest 
Thou  not  unto  me  ?  knowest  Thou  not  that  I  have  power  to  release 
Thee,  and  have  power  to  crucify  Thee  ?  Jesus  answered  Him,  Thou 
wouldest  have  no  power  against  Me,  except  it  were  given  thee  from 
above :  therefore  he  that  delivered  Me  unto  thee  hath  greater  sin. 
Upon  this  Pilate  sought  to  release  Him :  but  the  Jews  cried  out, 
saying.  If  thou  release  this  man,  thou  art  not  Cffisar's  friend :  every 
one  that  maketh  himself  a  king  speaketh  against  Csesar.  When  Pilate 
therefore  heard  these  words,  he  brought  Jesus  out,  and  sat  down  on 
the  judgment-seat  at  a  place  called  The  Pavement,  but  in  Hebrew, 
Gabbatha.  Now  it  was  the  preparation  of  the  Passover :  it  was  about 
the  sixth  hour.  And  he  saith  unto  the  Jews,  Behold,  your  King  ! 
They  therefore  cried  out.  Away  with  Him,  away  with  Him,  crucify 
Him.  Pilate  saith  unto  them,  Shall  I  crucify  your  King?  The  chief 
priests  answered,  We  have  no  king  but  Ccesar.  Then  therefore  he 
delivered  Him  unto  them  to  be  crucified." — John  xviii.  28 — xix    16. 


298 


XIX. 

JESUS  BEFORE  PILATE. 

JOHN  tells  us  very  little  of  the  examination  of  Jesus 
by  Annas  and  Caiaphas,  but  he  dwells  at  con- 
siderable length  on  His  trial  by  Pilate.  The 
reason  of  this  different  treatment  is  probably  to  be 
found  in  the  fact  that  the  trial  before  the  Sanhedrim 
was  ineffective  until  the  decision  had  been  ratified  by 
Pilate,  as  well  as  in  the  circumstance  noted  by  John 
that  the  decision  of  Caiaphas  was  a  foregone  con- 
clusion. Caiaphas  was  an  unscrupulous  politician  who 
allowed  nothing  to  stand  between  him  and  his  objects. 
To  the  weak  councillors  who  had  expressed  a  fear  that 
it  might  be  difficult  to  convict  a  person  so  innocent  as 
Jesus  he  said  with  supreme  contempt:  "Ye  know 
nothing  at  all.  Do  you  not  see  the  opportunity  we 
have  of  showing  our  zeal  for  the  Roman  Government 
by  sacrificing  this  man  who  claims  to  be  King  of  the 
Jews?  Innocent  of  course  He  is,  and  all  the  better 
so,  for  the  Romans  cannot  think  He  dies  for  robbery 
or  wrong-doing.  He  is  a  Galilean  of  no  consequence, 
connected  with  no  good  family  who  might  revenge  His 
death."  This  was  the  scheme  of  Caiaphas.  He  saw 
that  the  Romans  were  within  a  very  little  of  termi- 
nating the  incessant  troubles  of  this  Judaean  province 
by  enslaving  the  whole  population  and  devastating  the 

299 


300  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

land ;  this  catastrophe  might  be  staved  off  a  few  years 
by  such  an  exhibition  of  zeal  for  Rome  as  could  be 
made  in  the  public  execution  of  Jesus. 

So  far  as  Caiaphas  and  his  party  were  concerned, 
then,  Jesus  was  prejudged.  His  trial  was  not  an 
examination  to  discover  whether  He  was  guilty  or 
innocent,  but  a  cross-questioning  which  aimed  at 
betraying  Him  into  some  acknowledgment  which  might 
give  colour  to  the  sentence  of  death  already  decreed. 
Caiaphas  or  Annas  ^  invites  Him  to  give  some  account 
of  His  disciples  and  of  His  doctrines.  In  some  cases 
His  disciples  carried  arms,  and  among  them  was  one 
zealot,  and  there  might  be  others  known  to  the 
authorities  as  dangerous  or  suspected  characters.  And 
Annas  might  expect  that  in  giving  some  account  of  His 
teaching  the  honesty  of  Jesus  might  betray  Him  into 
expressions  which  could  easily  be  construed  to  His 
prejudice.  But  he  is  disappointed.  Jesus  replies  that 
it  is  not  for  Him,  arraigned  and  bound  as  a  dangerous 
prisoner,  to  give  evidence  against  Himself.  Thousands 
had  heard  Him  in  all  parts  of  the  country.  He  had 
delivered  those  supposed  inflammatory  addresses  not 
to  midnight  gatherings  and  secret  societies,  but  in  the 
most  public  places  He  could  find — in  the  Temple,  from 
which  no  Jew  was  excluded,  and  in  the  synagogues, 
where  official  teachers  were  commonly  present.  Annas 
is  silenced ;  and  mortified  though  he  is,  he  has  to 
accept  the  ruling  of  his  prisoner  as  indicating  the  lines 
on  which  the  trial  should  proceed.  His  mortification 
does  not  escape  the  notice  of  one  of  those  poor 
creatures  who  are  ever  ready  to  curry  favour  with  the 
great  by    cruelty  towards  the    defenceless,   or  at    the 

'  See  note  to  chapter  xviii, 


xviii.  28— xix.  i6.]    JESUS  BEFORE  PILATE.  301 

best  of  that  large  class  of  men  who  cannot  distinguish 
between  official  and  real  dignity ;  and  the  first  of  those 
insults  is  given  to  the  hitherto  sacred  person  of  Jesus, 
the  first  of  that  long  series  of  blows  struck  by  a  dead, 
conventional  religion  seeking  to  quench  the  truth  and 
the  life  of  what  threatens  its  slumber  with  awakening. 

Had  the  Roman  governor  not  been  present  in  the 
city  the  high  priests  and  their  party  might  have 
ventured  to  carry  into  effect  their  own  sentence.  But 
Pilate  had  already  shown  during  his  six  years  of  office 
that  he  was  not  a  man  to  overlook  anything  hke  con- 
tempt of  his  supremacy.  Besides,  they  were  not  quite 
sure  of  the  temper  of  the  people ;  and  a  rescue,  or 
even  an  attempted  rescue,  of  their  prisoner  would  be 
disastrous.  Prudence  therefore  bids  them  hand  Him 
over  to  Pilate,  who  had  both  legal  authority  to  put  Him 
to  death  and  means  to  quell  any  popular  disturbance. 
Besides,  the  purpose  of  Caiaphas  could  better  be  served 
by  bringing  before  the  governor  this  claimant  to  the 
Messiahship. 

Pilate  was  present  in  Jerusalem  at  this  time  in 
accordance  with  the  custom  of  the  Roman  procurators 
of  Judaea,  who  came  up  annually  from  their  usual 
residence  at  Caesarea  to  the  Jewish  capital  for  the 
double  purpose  of  keeping  order  while  the  city  was 
crowded  with  all  kinds  of  persons  who  came  up  to  the 
feast,  and  of  trying  cases  reserved  for  his  decision. 
And  the  Jews  no  doubt  thought  it  would  be  easy  to 
persuade  a  man  who,  as  they  knew  to  their  cost,  set 
a  very  low  value  on  human  blood  to  add  one  victim 
more  to  the  robbers  or  insurgents  who  might  be  await- 
ing execution.  Accordingly,  as  soon  as  day  dawned 
and  they  dared  to  disturb  the  governor,  they  put  Jesus 
in  chains  as  a  condemned  criminal  and  led  Him  away, 


302  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


all  their  leading  men  following,  to  the  quarters  of  Pilate, 
either  in  the  fortress  Antonia  or  in  the  magnificent 
palace  of  Herod.  Into  this  palace,  being  the  abode  of 
a  Gentile,  they  could  not  enter  lest  they  should  contract 
pollution  and  incapacitate  themselves  for  eating  the 
Passover,— the  culminating  instance  of  religious  scrupu- 
losity going  hand  in  hand  with  cruel  and  bloodthirsty 
criminality.  Pilate  with  scornful  allowance  for  their 
scruples  goes  out  to  them,  and  with  the  Roman's 
instinctive  respect  for  the  forms  of  justice  demands 
the  charge  brought  against  this  prisoner,  in  whose 
appearance  the  quick  eye  so  long  trained  to  read  the 
faces  of  criminals  is  at  a  loss  to  discover  any  index  to 
His  crime. 

This  apparent  intention  on  Pilate's  part,  if  not  to 
reopen  the  case  at  least  to  revise  their  procedure,  is 
resented  by  the  party  of  Caiaphas,  who  exclaim,  "  If  He 
were  not  a  malefactor  we  would  not  have  delivered  Him 
up  unto  thee.  Take  our  word  for  it ;  He  is  guilty  ;  do 
not  scruple  to  put  Him  to  death."  But  if  they  were 
indignant  that  Pilate  should  propose  to  revise  their 
decision,  he  is  not  less  so  that  they  should  presume 
to  make  him  their  mere  executioner.  All  the  Roman 
pride  of  office,  all  the  Roman  contempt  and  irritation 
at  this  strange  Jewish  people,  come  out  in  his  answer, 
"  If  you  will  make  no  charge  against  Him  and  refuse 
to  allow  me  to  judge  Him,  take  Him  yourselves  and  do 
what  you  can  with  Him,"  knowing  well  that  they  dared 
not  inflict  death  without  his  sanction,  and  that  this 
taunt  would  pierce  home.  The  taunt  they  did  feel, 
although  they  could  not  afford  to  show  that  they  felt  it, 
but  contented  themselves  with  laying  the  charge  that 
He  had  forbidden  the  people  to  give  tribute  to  Caesar 
and  claimed  to  be  Himself  a  king. 


xviii.  28— xix.  i6.]    JESUS  BEFORE  PILATE.  303 

As  Roman  law  permitted  the  examination  to  be 
conducted  within  the  praetorium,  though  the  judgment 
must  be  pronounced  outside  in  pubHc,  Pilate  re-enters 
the  palace  and  has  Jesus  brought  in,  so  that  apart  from 
the  crowd  he  may  examine  Him.  At  once  he  puts 
the  direct  question,  Guilty  or  not  guilty  of  this  political 
offence  with  which  you  stand  charged  ? — "  Art  Thou  the 
King  of  the  Jews  ?  "  But  to  this  direct  question  Jesus 
cannot  give  a  direct  answer,  because  the  words  may 
have  one  sense  in  the  lips  of  Pilate,  another  in  His  own. 
Before  He  answers  He  must  first  know  in  which  sense 
Pilate  uses  the  words.  He  asks  therefore,  "  Sayest  thou 
this  thing  of  thyself,  or  did  others  tell  it  thee  ?  "  Are 
you  inquiring  because  you  are  yourself  concerned  in 
this  question  ?  or  are  you  merely  uttering  a  question 
which  others  have  put  in  your  mouth  ?  To  which 
Pilate  with  some  heat  and  contempt  replies,  "  Am  I  a 
Jew  ?  How  can  you  expect  me  to  take  any  personal 
interest  in  the  matter  ?  Thine  own  nation  and  the  chief 
priests  have  delivered  Thee  unto  me." 

Pilate,  that  is  to  say,  scouts  the  idea  that  he  should 
take  any  interest  in  questions  about  the  Messiah  of  the 
Jews.  And  yet  was  it  not  possible  that,  like  some  of 
his  subordinates,  centurions  and  others,  he  too  should 
perceive  the  spiritual  grandeur  of  Jesus  and  should  not 
be  prevented  by  his  heathen  upbringing  from  seeking 
to  belong  to  this  kingdom  of  God  ?  May  not  Pilate 
also  be  awakened  to  see  that  man's  true  inheritance  is 
the  world  unseen  ?  may  not  that  expression  of  fixed 
melancholy,  of  hard  scorn,  of  sad,  hopeless,  proud 
indifference,  give  place  to  the  humble  eagerness  of  the 
inquiring  soul  ?  may  not  the  heart  of  a  child  come  back 
to  that  bewildered  and  world-encrusted  soul  ?  Alas  ! 
this  is  too  much  for  Roman  pride.    He  cannot  in  presence 


304  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

of  this  bound  Jew  acknowledge  how  little  life  has  satis- 
fied him.  He  finds  the  difficulty  so  many  find  in 
middle  life  of  frankly  showing  that  they  have  in  their 
nature  deeper  desires  than  the  successes  of  life  satisfy. 
There  is  many  a  man  who  seals  up  his  deeper  instincts 
and  does  violence  to  his  better  nature  because,  having 
begun  his  life  on  worldly  lines,  he  is  too  proud  now  to 
change,  and  crushes  down,  to  his  own  eternal  hurt,  the 
stirrings  of  a  better  mind  within  him,  and  turns  from 
the  gentle  whisperings  that  would  fain  bring  eternal 
hope  to  his  heart. 

It  is  possible  that  Jesus  by  His  question  meant  to 
suggest  to  Pilate  the  actual  relation  in  which  this 
present  trial  stood  to  His  previous  trial  by  Caiaphas. 
For  nothing  could  more  distinctly  mark  the  baseness 
and  malignity  of  the  Jews  than  their  manner  of  shifting 
ground  when  they  brought  Jesus  before  Pilate.  The 
Sanhedrim  had  condemned  Him,  not  for  claiming  to  be 
King  of  the  Jews,  for  that  was  not  a  capital  offence,  but 
for  assuming  Divine  dignity.  But  that  which  in  their 
eyes  was  a  crime  was  none  in  the  judgment  of  Roman 
law  ;  it  was  useless  to  bring  Him  before  Pilate  and 
accuse  Him  of  blasphemy.  They  therefore  accused 
Him  of  assuming  to  be  King  of  the  Jews.  Here,  then, 
were  the  Jews  "  accusing  Jesus  before  the  Roman 
governor  of  that  which,  in  the  first  place,  they  knew 
that  Jesus  denied  in  the  sense  in  which  they  urged  it, 
and  which,  in  the  next  place,  had  the  charge  been  true, 
would  have  been  so  far  from  a  crime  in  their  eyes  that 
it  would  have  been  popular  with  the  whole  nation." 

But  as  Pilate  might  very  naturally  misunderstand 
the  character  of  the  claim  made  by  the  accused,  Jesus 
in  a  few  words  gives  him  clearly  to  understand  that 
the  kingdom   He  sought  to  establish  could  not  come 


xviii.28— xix.  i6.]    JESUS  BEFORE  PILATE.  305 

into  collision  with  that  which  Pilate  represented  :  "  My 
kingdom  is  not  of  this  world."  The  most  convincing 
proof  had  been  given  of  the  spiritual  character  of  the 
kingdom  in  the  fact  that  Jesus  did  not  allow  the  sword 
to  be  used  in  forwarding  His  claims.  "  If  My  kingdom 
were  of  this  world,  then  would  My  servants  fight,  that 
I  should  not  be  delivered  to  the  Jews  :  but  now  is  My 
kingdom  not  from  hence."  This  did  not  quite  satisfy 
Pilate.  He  thought  that  still  some  mystery  of  danger 
might  lurk  behind  the  words  of  Jesus.  There  was 
nothing  more  acutely  dreaded  by  the  early  emperors 
than  secret  societies.  It  might  be  some  such  associa- 
tion Jesus  intended  to  form.  To  allow  such  a  society 
to  gain  influence  in  his  province  would  be  a  gross 
oversight  on  Pilate's  part.  He  therefore  seizes  upon 
the  apparent  admission  of  Jesus  and  pushes  Him  further 
with  the  question,  "  Thou  art  a  king  then  ?  "  But  the 
answer  of  Jesus  removes  all  fear  from  the  mind  of 
His  judge.  He  claims  only  to  be  a  king  of  the  truth, 
attracting  to  Himself  all  who  are  drawn  by  a  love 
of  truth.  This  was  enough  for  Pilate.  "Aletheia" 
was  a  country  beyond  his  jurisdiction,  a  Utopia  which 
could  not  injure  the  Empire.  "  Tush  !  "  he  says,  "  what 
is  Aletheia  ?  Why  speak  to  me  of  ideal  worlds  ? 
What  concern  have  I  with  provinces  that  can  yield  no 
tribute  and  offer  no  armed  resistance  ?  " 

Pilate,  convinced  of  the  innocence  of  Jesus,  makes 
several  attempts  to  save  Him.  All  these  attempts 
failed,  because,  instead  of  at  once  and  decidedly  pro- 
claiming His  innocence  and  demanding  His  acquittal, 
he  sought  at  the  same  time  to  propitiate  His  accusers. 
One  generally  expects  from  a  Roman  governor  some 
knowledge  of  men  and  some  fearlessness  in  his  use  of 
that  knowledge.     Pilate  shows  neither.     His  first  step 

VOL.  II.  20 


3o6  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

in  dealing  with  the  accusers  of  Jesus  is  a  fatal  mistake. 
Instead  of  at  once  going  to  his  judgment-seat  and 
pronouncing  authoritatively  the  acquittal  of  his  Prisoner, 
and  clearing  his  court  of  all  riotously  disposed  persons, 
he  in  one  breath  declared  Jesus  innocent  and  proposed 
to  treat  Him  as  guilty,  offering  to  release  Him  as  a 
boon  to  the  Jews.  A  weaker  proposal  could  scarcely 
have  been  made.  There  was  nothing,  absolutely 
nothing,  to  induce  the  Jews  to  accept  it,  but  in  making 
it  he  showed  a  disposition  to  treat  with  them — a  dis- 
position they  did  not  fail  to  make  abundant  use  of  in 
the  succeeding  scenes  of  this  disgraceful  day.  This 
first  departure  from  justice  lowered  him  to  their  own 
level  and  removed  the  only  bulwark  he  had  against 
their  insolence  and  blood-thirstiness.  Had  he  acted 
as  any  upright  judge  would  have  acted  and  at  once 
put  his  Prisoner  beyond  reach  of  their  hatred,  they 
would  have  shrunk  like  cowed  wild  beasts  ;  but  his  first 
concession  put  him  in  their  power,  and  from  this  point 
onwards  there  is  exhibited  one  of  the  most  lamentable 
spectacles  in  history, — a  man  in  power  tossed  like  a  ball 
between  his  convictions  and  his  fears ;  a  Roman  not 
without  a  certain  doggedness  and  cynical  hardness  that 
often  pass  for  strength  of  character,  but  held  up  here 
to  view  as  a  sample  of  the  weakness  that  results  from 
the  vain  attempt  to  satisfy  both  what  is  bad  and  what 
is  good  in  us. 

His  second  attempt  to  save  Jesus  from  death  was 
more  unjust  and  as  futile  as  the  first.  He  scourges  the 
Prisoner  whose  innocence  he  had  himself  declared, 
possibly  under  the  idea  that  if  nothing  was  confessed 
by  Jesus  under  this  torture  it  might  convince  the  Jews 
of  His  innocence,  but  more  probably  under  the  impres- 
sion that  they  might  be  satisfied  when  they  saw  Jesus 


xviii. 28— xix.  i6.]    JESUS  BEFORE  PILATE.  307 

bleeding  and  fainting  from  the  scourge.  The  Roman 
scourge  was  a  barbarous  instrument,  its  heavy  thongs 
being  loaded  with  metal  and  inlaid  with  bone,  every 
cut  of  which  tore  away  the  flesh.  But  if  Pilate  fancied 
that  when  the  Jews  saw  this  lacerated  form  they  would 
pity  and  relent,  he  greatly  mistook  the  men  he  had  to 
do  with.  He  failed  to  take  into  account  the  common 
principle  that  when  you  have  wrongfully  injured  a  man 
you  hate  him  all  the  more.  Many  a  man  becomes 
a  murderer,  not  by  premeditation,  but  having  struck 
a  first  blow  and  seeing  his  victim  in  agony  he  cannot 
bear  that  that  eye  should  live  to  reproach  him  and  that 
tongue  to  upbraid  him  with  his  cruelty.  So  it  was 
here.  The  people  were  infuriated  by  the  sight  of  the 
innocent,  unmurmuring  Sufferer  whom  they  had  thus 
mangled.  They  cannot  bear  that  such  an  object  be 
left  to  remind  them  of  their  barbarity,  and  with  one 
fierce  yell  of  fury  they  cry,  "  Crucify  Him,  crucify 
Him."  1 

A  third  time  Pilate  refused  to  be  the  instrument  of 
their  inhuman  and  unjust  rage,  and  flung  the  Prisoner 
on  their  hands  :  "  Take  Him  yourselves,  and  crucify 
Him  :  for  I  find  no  crime  in  Him."  But  when  the  Jews 
answered  that  by  their  law  He  ought  to  die,  because 
"  He  made  Himself  the  Son  of  God,"  Pilate  was 
again  seized  with  dread,  and  withdrew  his  Prisoner 
for  the  fourth  time  into  the  palace.  Already  he  had 
remarked  in  His  demeanour  a  calm  superiority  which 
made  it  seem  quite  possible  that  this  extraordinary 
claim  might  be  true.  The  books  he  had  read  at 
school  and  the  poems  he  had  heard  since  he  grew 
up  had  told  stories    of  how  the  gods  had  sometimes 

*  The  cry  according  to  the  best  reading  was  simply  "  Crucify,  crucify," 
or  as  it  might  be  rendered,  "  The  cross,  the  cross." 


3o8  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

come  down  and  dwelt  with  men.  He  had  long  since 
discarded  such  beliefs  as  mere  fictions.  Still,  there  was 
something  in  the  bearing  of  this  Prisoner  before  him 
that  awakened  the  old  impression,  that  possibly  this 
single  planet  with  its  visible  population  was  not  the 
whole  universe,  that  there  might  be  some  other  unseen 
region  out  of  which  Divine  beings  looked  down  upon 
earth  with  pity,  and  from  which  they  might  come  and 
visit  us  on  some  errand  of  love.  With  anxiety  written 
on  his  face  and  heard  in  his  tone  he  asks,  "  Whence  art 
Thou  ?  "  How  near  does  this  man  always  seem  to  be 
to  breaking  through  the  thin  veil  and  entering  with 
illumined  vision  into  the  spiritual  world,  the  world  of 
truth  and  right  and  God  !  Would  not  a  word  now 
from  Jesus  have  given  him  entrance  ?  Would  not  the 
repetition  of  the  solemn  affirmation  of  His  divinity 
which  He  had  given  to  the  Sanhedrim  have  been  the 
one  thing  wanted  in  Pilate's  case,  the  one  thing  to  turn 
the  scale  in  the  favour  of  Jesus  ?  At  first  sight  it 
might  seem  so ;  but  so  it  seemed  not  to  the  Lord. 
He  preserves  an  unbroken  silence  to  the  question  on 
which  Pilate  seems  to  hang  in  an  earnest  suspense. 
And  certainly  this  silence  is  by  no  means  easy  to 
account  for.  Shall  we  say  that  He  was  acting  out  His 
own  precept,  "  Give  not  that  which  is  holy  to  dogs  "  ? 
Shall  we  say  that  He  who  knew  what  was  in  man  saw 
that  though  Pilate  was  for  the  moment  alarmed  and  in 
earnest,  yet  there  was  beneath  that  earnestness  an 
ineradicable  vacillation  ?  It  is  very  possible  that  the 
treatment  He  had  received  at  Pilate's  hand  had  con- 
vinced Him  that  Pilate  would  eventually  yield  to  the 
Jews ;  and  what  need,  then,  of  protracting  the  process  ? 
No  man  who  has  any  dignity  and  self-respect  will  make 
declarations  about  his  character  which  he  sees  will  do 


xviii.  28— xix.  i6.]    JESUS  BEFORE  PILATE.  309 

no  good  :  no  man  is  bound  to  be  at  the  beck  of  every 
one  to  answer  accusations  they  may  bring  against  him  ; 
by  doing  so  he  will  often  only  involve  himself  in 
miserable,  petty  wranglings,  and  profit  no  one.  Jesus 
therefore  was  not  going  to  make  revelations  about 
Himself  which  He  saw  would  only  make  Him  once 
again  a  shuttlecock  driven  between  the  two  contending 
parties. 

Besides — and  this  probably  is  the  main  reason  of  the 
silence — Pilate  was  now  forgetting  altogether  the  relation 
between  himself  and  his  Prisoner.  Jesus  had  been 
accused  before  him  on  a  definite  charge  which  he  had 
found  to  be  baseless.  He  ought  therefore  to  have 
released  Him.  This  new  charge  of  the  Jews  was  one 
of  which  Pilate  could  not  take  cognisance;  and  of 
this  Jesus  reminds  him  by  His  silence.  Jesus  might 
have  made  influence  for  Himself  by  working  upon 
the  superstition  of  Pilate;  but  this  was  not  to  be 
thought  of 

Offended  at  His  silence,  Pilate  exclaims:  "Speakest 
Thou  not  unto  me?  Knowest  Thou  not  that  I  have 
power  to  release  Thee,  and  have  power  to  crucify  Thee  ?" 
Here  was  an  unwonted  kind  of  prisoner  who  would  not 
curry  favour  with  His  judge.  But  instead  of  entreating 
Pilate  to  use  this  power  in  His  favour  Jesus  replies : 
"  Thou  wouldest  have  no  power  against  Me,  except  it 
were  given  thee  from  above ;  therefore  he  that  delivered 
Me  unto  thee  hath  greater  sin."  Pilate's  office  was  the 
ordinance  of  God,  and  therefore  his  judgments  should 
express  the  justice  and  will  of  God ;  and  it  was  this 
which  made  the  sin  of  Caiaphas  and  the  Jews  so  great : 
they  were  making  use  of  a  Divine  ordinance  to  serve 
their  own  God-resisting  purposes.  Had  Pilate  been 
a  mere  irresponsible  executioner  their  sin  would  have 


3IO  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

been  sufficiently  heinous ;  but  in  using  an  official  who 
is  God's  representative  of  law,  order,  and  justice  to 
fulfil  their  own  wicked  and  unjust  designs  they  reck- 
lessly prostitute  God's  ordinance  of  justice  and  involve 
themselves  in  a  darker  criminality. 

More  impressed  than  ever  by  this  powerful  statement 
falling  from  the  hps  of  a  man  weakened  by  the  scourging, 
Pilate  makes  one  more  effort  to  save  Him.  But  now 
the  Jews  play  their  last  card  and  play  it  successfully. 
"  If  thou  release  this  man,  thou  art  not  Caesar's  friend." 
To  lay  himself  open  to  a  charge  of  treason  or  neglect  of 
the  interests  of  Caesar  was  what  Pilate  could  not  risk. 
At  once  his  compassion  for  the  Prisoner,  his  sense  of 
justice,  his  apprehensions,  his  proud  unwillingness  to 
let  the  Jews  have  their  way,  are  overcome  by  his  fear 
of  being  reported  to  the  most  suspicious  of  emperors. 
He  prepared  to  give  his  judgment,  taking  his  place  on 
the  official  seat,  which  stood  on  a  tesselated  pavement, 
called  in  Aramaic  "  Gabbatha,"  from  its  elevated  position 
in  sight  of  the  crowds  standing  outside.  Here,  after 
venting  his  spleen  in  the  weak  sarcasm  "  Shall  I  crucify 
your  King  ?  "  he  formally  hands  over  his  Prisoner  to  be 
crucified.  This  decision  was  at  last  come  to,  as  John 
records,  about  noon  of  the  day  which  prepared  for  and 
terminated  in  the  Paschal  Supper. 

Pilate's  vacillation  receives  from  John  a  long  and 
careful  treatment.  Light  is  shed  upon  it,  and  upon  the 
threat  which  forced  him  at  last  to  make  up  his  mind, 
from  the  account  which  Philo  gives  of  his  character  and 
administration.  "  With  a  view,"  he  says,  "  to  vex  the 
Jews,  Pilate  hung  up  some  gilt  shields  in  the  palace  of 
Herod,  which  they  judged  a  profanation  of  the  holy  city, 
and  therefore  petitioned  him  to  remove  them.  But 
when  he  steadfastly  refused  to  do  so,  for  he  was  a  man 


xviii.  28— xix.  i6.]    JESUS  BEFORE  PILATE.  311 

of  very  inflexible  disposition  and  very  merciless  as  well 
as  very  obstinate,  they  cried  out,  '  Beware  of  causing  a 
tumult,  for  Tiberius  will  not  sanction  this  act  of  yours ; 
and  if  you  say  that  he  will,  we  ourselves  will  go  to  him 
and  supplicate  your  master.'  This  threat  exasperated 
Pilate  in  the  highest  degree,  as  he  feared  that  they 
might  really  go  to  the  Emperor  and  impeach  him 
with  respect  to  other  acts  of  his  government — his  cor- 
ruption, his  acts  of  insolence,  his  habit  of  insulting 
people,  his  cruelty,  his  continual  murders  of  people 
untried  and  uncondemned,  and  his  never-ending  and 
gratuitous  and  most  grievous  inhumanity.  Therefore, 
being  exceedingly  angry,  and  being  at  all  times  a  man 
of  most  ferocious  passions,  he  was  in  great  perplexity, 
neither  venturing  to  take  down  what  he  had  once  set 
up  nor  wishing  to  do  anything  which  could  be  acceptable 
to  his  subjects,  and  yet  fearing  the  anger  of  Tiberius. 
And  those  who  were  in  power  among  the  Jews,  seeing 
this  and  perceiving  that  he  was  inclined  to  change 
his  mind  as  to  what  he  had  done,  but  that  he  was 
not  willing  to  be  thought  to  do  so,  appealed  to  the 
Emperor."  ^  This  sheds  light  on  the  whole  conduct  of 
Pilate  during  this  trial — his  fear  of  the  Emperor,  his 
hatred  of  the  Jews  and  desire  to  annoy  them,  his 
vacillation  and  yet  obstinacy;  and  we  see  that  the 
mode  the  Sanhedrim  now  adopted  with  Pilate  was  their 
usual  mode  of  dealing  with  him  :  now,  as  always,  they 
saw  his  vacillation,  disguised  as  it  was  by  fierceness  of 
speech,  and  they  knew  he  must  yield  to  the  threat 
of  complaining  to  Caesar, 

The  very  thing  that  Pilate  feared,  and  to  avoid  which 
he  sacrificed  the  life  of  our  Lord,  came  upon  him  six  years 

'  Philo,  Ad  Caium,  c.  38. 


312  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

after.  Complaints  against  him  were  sent  to  the  Emperor; 
he  was  deposed  from  his  office,  and  so  stripped  of  all 
that  made  life  endurable  to  him,  that,  "wearied  with 
misfortunes,"  he  died  by  his  own  hand.  Perhaps  we 
are  tempted  to  think  Pilate's  fate  severe ;  we  naturally 
sympathise  with  him ;  there  are  so  many  traits  of 
character  which  show  well  when  contrasted  with  the 
unprincipled  violence  of  the  Jews.  We  are  apt  to  say 
he  was  weak  rather  than  wicked,  forgetting  that  moral 
weakness  is  just  another  name  for  wickedness,  or  rather 
is  that  which  makes  a  man  capable  of  any  wickedness. 
The  man  we  call  wicked  has  his  one  or  two  good  points 
at  which  we  can  be  sure  of  him.  The  weak  man  we 
are  never  sure  of.  That  he  has  good  feelings  is 
nothing,  for  we  do  not  know  what  may  be  brought  to 
overcome  these  feelings.  That  he  has  right  convictions 
is  nothing;  we  may  have  thought  he  was  convinced 
to-day,  but  to-morrow  his  old  fears  have  prevailed. 
And  who  is  the  weak  man  who  is  thus  open  to  every 
kind  of  influence  ?  He  is  the  man  who  is  not  single- 
minded.  The  single-minded,  worldly  man  makes  no 
pretension  to  holiness,  but  sees  at  a  glance  that  that 
interferes  with  his  real  object ;  the  single-minded, 
godly  man  has  only  truth  and  righteousness  for  his 
aim,  and  does  not  listen  to  fears  or  hopes  suggested  by 
the  world.  But  the  man  who  attempts  to  gratify  both 
his  conscience  and  his  evil  or  weak  feelings,  the  man 
who  fancies  he  can  so  manipulate  the  events  of  his  life 
as  to  secure  his  own  selfish  ends  as  well  as  the  great 
ends  of  justice  and  righteousness,  will  often  be  in  as 
great  a  perplexity  as  Pilate,  and  will  come  to  as  ruinous 
if  not  to  so  appalling  an  end. 

In  this  would-be  equitable  Roman  governor,  exhibiting 
his  weakness  to  the  people  and  helplessly  exclaiming, 


xviii.  28— xix.  i6.]    JESUS  BEFORE  PILATE.  313 

"  What  shall  I  do  with  Jesus  which  is  called  Christ  ?  "  ^ 
we  see  the  predicament  of  many  who  are  suddenly 
confronted  with  Christ — disconcerted  as  they  are  to 
have  such  a  prisoner  thrown  on  their  hands,  and  wish- 
ing that  anything  had  turned  up  rather  than  a  necessity 
for  answering  this  question,  What  shall  I  do  with 
Jesus  ?  Probably  when  Jesus  was  led  by  the  vacillating 
Pilate  out  and  in,  back  and  forward,  examined  and 
re-examined,  acquitted,  scourged,  defended,  and  aban- 
doned to  His  enemies,  some  pity  for  His  judge  mingled 
with  other  feelings  in  His  mind.  This  was  altogether 
too  great  a  case  for  a  man  like  Pilate,  fit  enough  to  try 
men  like  Barabbas  and  to  keep  the  turbulent  Galileans 
in  order.  What  unhappy  fate,  he  might  afterwards 
think,  had  brought  this  mysterious  Prisoner  to  his 
judgment-seat,  and  for  ever  linked  in  such  unhappy 
relation  his  name  to  the  Name  that  is  above  every 
name  ?  Never  with  more  disastrous  results  did  the 
resistless  stream  of  time  bring  together  and  clash 
together  the  earthen  and  the  brazen  pitcher.  Never 
before  had  such  a  prisoner  stood  at  any  judge's  bar. 
Roman  governors  and  emperors  had  been  called  to 
doom  or  to  acquit  kings  and  potentates  of  all  degrees 
and  to  determine  every  kind  of  question,  forbidding 
this  or  that  religion,  extirpating  old  dynasties,  altering 
old  landmarks,  making  history  in  its  largest  dimensions  ; 
but  Pilate  was  summoned  to  adjudicate  in  a  case  that 
seemed  of  no  consequence  at  all,  yet  really  eclipsed  in 
its  importance  all  other  cases  put  together. 

Nothing  could  save  Pilate  from  the  responsibility 
attaching  to  his  connection  with  Jesus,  and  nothing 
can   save    us    from    the   responsibility   of  determining 

'  Mark  xv.  12. 


314  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

what  judgment  we  are  to  pronounce  on  this  same 
Person.  It  may  seem  to  us  an  unfortunate  predicament 
we  are  placed  in ;  we  may  resent  being  called  upon  to 
do  anything  decided  in  a  matter  where  our  convictions 
so  conflict  with  our  desires ;  we  may  inwardly  protest 
against  human  life  being  obstructed  and  disturbed  by 
choices  that  are  so  pressing  and  so  difficult  and  with 
issues  so  incalculably  serious.  But  second  thoughts 
assure  us  that  to  be  confronted  with  Christ  is  in  truth 
far  from  being  an  unfortunate  predicament,  and  that 
to  be  compelled  to  decisions  which  determine  our  whole 
after-course  and  allow  fullest  expression  of  our  own 
will  and  spiritual  affinities  is  our  true  glory.  Christ 
stands  patiently  awaiting  our  decision,  maintaining  His 
inalienable  majesty,  but  submitting  Himself  to  every 
test  we  care  to  apply,  claiming  only  to  be  the  King 
of  the  truth  by  whom  we  are  admitted  into  that  sole 
eternal  kingdom.  It  has  come  to  be  our  turn,  as  it 
came  to  be  Pilate's,  to  decide  upon  His  claims  and  to 
act  upon  our  decision — to  recognise  that  we  men  have 
to  do,  not  merely  with  pleasure  and  place,  with  earthly 
rewards  and  relations,  but  above  all  with  the  truth, 
with  that  which  gives  eternal  significance  to  all  these 
present  things,  with  the  truth  about  human  life,  with 
the  truth  embodied  for  us  in  Christ's  person  and 
speaking  intelligibly  to  us  through  His  Hps,  with  God 
manifest  in  the  flesh.  Are  we  to  take  part  with  Him 
when  He  calls  us  to  glory  and  to  virtue,  to  the  truth 
and  to  eternal  life,  or  yielding  to  some  present  pressure 
the  world  puts  upon  us  attempt  some  futile  compromise 
and  so  renounce  our  birthright  ? 

Could  Pilate  really  persuade  himself  he  made  every- 
thing right  with  a  basin  of  water  and  a  theatrical 
transference  of  his  responsibility  to  the  Jews  ?     Could 


xviii.  28— xix.  i6.]    JESUS  BEFORE  PILATE.  315 

he  persuade  himself  that  by  merely  giving  up  the 
contest  he  was  playing  the  part  of  a  judge  and  of  a 
man  ?  Could  he  persuade  himself  that  the  mere  words, 
"  I  am  innocent  of  the  blood  of  this  righteous  man : 
see  ye  to  it,"  altered  his  relation  to  the  death  of  Christ  ? 
No  doubt  he  did.  There  is  nothing  commoner  than 
for  a  man  to  think  himself  forced  when  it  is  his  own 
fear  or  wickedness  that  is  his  only  compulsion.  Would 
every  man  in  Pilate's  circumstances  have  felt  himself 
forced  to  surrender  Jesus  to  the  Jews  ?  Would  even 
a  Gallio  or  a  Claudius  Lysias  have  done  so  ?  But 
Pilate's  past  history  made  him  powerless.  Had  he 
not  feared  exposure,  he  would  have  marched  his  cohort 
across  the  square  and  cleared  it  of  the  mob  and  defied 
the  Sanhedrim.  It  was  not  because  he  thought  the 
Jewish  law  had  any  true  right  to  demand  Christ's 
death,  but  merely  because  the  Jews  threatened  to  report 
him  as  conniving  at  rebellion,  that  he  yielded  Christ 
to  them ;  and  to  seek  to  lay  the  blame  on  those  who 
made  it  difficult  to  do  the  right  thing  was  both  unmanly 
and  futile.  The  Jews  were  at  least  willing  to  take 
their  share  of  the  blame,  dreadful  in  its  results  as  that 
proved  to  be. 

Fairly  to  apportion  blame  where  there  are  two  con- 
senting parties  to  a  wickedness  is  for  us,  in  many 
cases,  impossible ;  and  what  we  have  to  do  is  to 
beware  of  shifting  blame  from  ourselves  to  our  cir- 
cumstances or  to  other  people.  However  galling  it 
is  to  find  ourselves  mixed  up  with  transactions  which 
turn  out  to  be  shameful,  or  to  discover  that  some 
vacillation  or  imbeciHty  on  our  part  has  made  us 
partakers  in  sin,  it  is  idle  and  worse  to  wash  our 
hands  ostentatiously  and  try  to  persuade  ourselves  we 
have  no  guilt  in  the  matter.     The  fact  that  we  have 


3l6  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

been  brought  in  contact  with  unjust,  cruel,  heartless, 
fraudulent,  unscrupulous,  worldly,  passionate  people 
may  explain  many  of  our  sins,  but  it  does  not  excuse 
them.  Other  people  in  our  circumstances  would  not 
have  done  what  we  have  done  ;  they  would  have  acted 
a  stronger,  manlier,  more  generous  part.  And  if  we 
have  sinned,  it  only  adds  to  our  guilt  and  encourages 
our  weakness  to  profess  innocence  now  and  transfer 
to  some  other  party  the  disgrace  that  belongs  to  our- 
selves. Nothing  short  of  physical  compulsion  can 
excuse  wrong-doing. 

The  calmness  and  dignity  with  which  Jesus  passed 
through  this  ordeal,  alone  self-possessed,  while  all 
around  Him  were  beside  themselves,  so  impressed 
Pilate  that  he  not  only  felt  guilty  in  giving  Him  up 
to  the  Jews,  but  did  not  think  it  impossible  that  He 
might  be  the  Son  of  God.  But  what  is  perhaps  even 
more  striking  in  this  scene  is  the  directness  with  which 
all  these  evil  passions  of  men — fear,  and  self-interest, 
and  injustice,  and  hate — are  guided  to  an  end  fraught 
with  blessing.  Goodness  finds  in  the  most  adverse 
circumstances  material  for  its  purposes.  We  are  apt 
in  such  circumstances  to  despair  and  act  as  if  there 
were  never  to  be  a  triumph  of  goodness ;  but  the  little 
seed  of  good  that  one  individual  can  contribute  even 
by  hopeful  and  patient  submission  is  that  which  survives 
and  produces  good  in  perpetuity,  while  the  passion 
and  the  hate  and  the  worldliness  cease.  In  so  wild 
a  scene  what  availed  it,  we  might  have  said,  that  one 
Person  kept  His  steadfastness  and  rose  superior  to 
the  surrounding  wickedness  ?  But  the  event  showed 
that  it  did  avail.  All  the  rest  was  scaffolding  that 
fell  away  out  of  sight,  and  this  solitary  integrity  remains 
as  the  enduring  monument.     In  our  measure  we  must 


xviii.  28— xix.  i6.]    JESUS  BEFORE  PILATE.  317 

pass  through  similar  ordeals,  times  when  it  seems  vain 
to  contend,  useless  to  hope.  When  all  we  have  done 
seems  to  be  lost,  when  our  way  is  hid  and  no  further 
step  is  visible,  when  all  the  waves  and  billows  of 
an  ungodly  world  seem  to  threaten  with  extinction 
the  little  good  we  have  cherished,  then  must  we 
remember  this  calm,  majestic  Prisoner,  bound  in  the 
midst  of  a  frantic  and  blood-thirsty  mob,  yet  superior 
to  it  because  He  was  living  in  God. 


XX. 

MARY  AT  THE  CROSS. 


319 


"They  took  Jesus  therefore  :  and  He  went  out,  bearing  the  cross  for 
Himself,  unto  the  place  called  The  place  of  a  skull,  which  is  called  in 
Hebrew  Golgotha  :  where  they  crucified  Him,  and  with  Him  two 
others,  on  either  side  one,  and  Jesus  in  the  midst.  And  Pilate  wrote  a 
title  also,  and  put  it  on  the  cross.  And  there  was  written,  Jesus  of 
Nazareth,  the  King  of  the  Jews.  This  title  therefore  read  many 
of  the  Jews  :  for  the  place  where  Jesus  was  crucified  was  nigh  to  the 
city  :  and  it  was  written  in  Hebrew,  and  in  Latin,  and  in  Greek.  The 
chief  priests  of  the  Jews  therefore  said  to  Pilate,  Write  not.  The  King 
of  the  Jews  ;  but,  that  He  said,  I  am  King  of  the  Jews.  Pilate  answered, 
What  I  have  written  I  have  written.  The  soldiers  therefore,  when  they 
had  crucified  Jesus,  took  His  garments,  and  made  four  parts,  to  every 
soldier  a  part ;  and  also  the  coat  :  now  the  coat  was  without  seam, 
woven  from  the  top  throughout.  They  said  therefore  one  to  another, 
Let  us  not  rend  it,  but  cast  lots  for  it,  whose  it  shall  be  :  that  the 
scripture  might  be  fulfilled,  which  saith,  They  parted  My  garments 
among  them.  And  upon  My  vesture  did  they  cast  lots.  These  things 
therefore  the  soldiers  did.  But  there  were  standing  by  the  cross  of 
Jesus  His  mother,  and  His  mother's  .^ister,  Mary  the  wife  of  Clopas, 
and  Mary  Magdalene.  When  Jesus  therefore  saw  His  mother,  and 
the  disciple  standing  by,  whom  He  loved.  He  saith  unto  His  mother, 
Woman,  behold  thy  son  !  Then  saith  He  to  the  disciple,  Behold,  thy 
mother  !  And  from  that  hour  the  disciple  took  her  unto  his  own 
home." — ^JoHN  xix.  17-27. 


320 


XX. 

MARY  AT  THE  CROSS. 

IF  we  ask  on  what  charge  our  Lord  was  condemned 
to  die,  the  answer  must  be  complex,  not  simple. 
Pilate  indeed,  in  accordance  with  the  usual  custom, 
painted  on  a  board  the  name  and  crime  of  the  Prisoner, 
that  all  who  could  understand  any  of  the  three  current 
languages  might  know  who  this  was  and  why  He  was 
crucified.  But  in  the  case  of  Jesus  the  inscription  was 
merely  a  ghastly  jest  on  Pilate's  part.  It  was  the 
coarse  retaliation  of  a  proud  man  who  found  himself 
helpless  in  the  hands  of  people  he  despised  and  hated. 
There  was  some  relish  to  him  in  the  crucifixion  of 
Jesus  when  by  his  inscription  he  had  turned  it  into  an 
insult  to  the  nation.  A  gleam  of  savage  satisfaction 
for  a  moment  lit  up  his  gloomy  face  when  he  found  that 
his  taunt  had  told,  and  the  chief  priests  came  begging 
him  to  change  what  he  had  written. 

Pilate  from  the  first  look  he  got  of  his  Prisoner 
understood  that  he  had  before  him  quite  another  kind 
of  person  than  the  ordinary  zealot,  or  spurious  Messiah, 
or  turbulent  Galilean.  Pilate  knew  enough  of  the 
Jews  to  feel  sure  that  if  Jesus  had  been  plotting  rebellion 
against  Rome  He  would  not  have  been  informed  against 
by  the  chief  priests.  Possibly  he  knew  enough  of 
what  had  been  going  on  in  his  province  to  understand 

VOL.  II.  321  21  . 


322  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

that  it  was  precisely  because  Jesus  would  not  allow 
Himself  to  be  made  a  king  in  opposition  to  Rome  that 
the  Jews  detested  and  accused  Him.  Possibly  he  saw 
enough  of  the  relations  of  Jesus  to  the  authorities  to 
despise  the  abandoned  malignity  and  baseness  which 
could  bring  an  innocent  man  to  his  bar  and  charge  Him 
with  what  in  their  eyes  was  no  crime  at  all  and  make 
the  charge  precisely  because  He  was  innocent  of  it. 

Nominally,  but  only  nominally,  Jesus  was  crucified 
for  sedition.  If  we  pass,  in  search  of  the  real  charge, 
from  Pilate's  judgment-seat  to  the  Sanhedrim,  we  get 
nearer  to  the  truth.  The  charge  on  which  He  was  in 
this  court  condemned  was  the  charge  of  blasphemy. 
He  was  indeed  examined  as  to  His  claims  to  be  the 
Messiah,  but  it  does  not  appear  that  they  had  any  law 
on  which  He  could  have  been  condemned  for  such 
claims.  They  did  not  expect  that  the  Messiah  would 
be  Divin-e  in  the  proper  sense.  Had  they  done  so, 
then  any  one  falsely  claiming  to  be  the  Messiah  would 
thereby  have  falsely  claimed  to  be  Divine,  and  would 
therefore  have  been  guilty  of  blasphemy.  But  it  was 
not  for  claiming  to  be  the  Christ  that  Jesus  was  con- 
demned ;  it  was  when  He  declared  Himself  to  be  the 
Son  of  God  that  the  high  priest  rent  His  garments  and 
declared  Him  guilty  of  blasphemy. 

Now,  of  course  it  was  very  possible  that  many 
members  of  the  Sanhedrim  should  sincerely  believe 
that  blasphemy  had  been  uttered.  The  unity  of  God 
was  the  distinctive  creed  of  the  Jew,  that  which  had 
made  his  nation,  and  for  any  human  lips  to  claim 
equality  with  the  one  infinite  God  was  not  to  be  thought 
of.  It  must  have  fallen  upon  their  ears  like  a  thunder- 
clap; they  must  have  fallen  back  on  their  seats  or 
Started  from  them  in  horror  when  so  awful  a  claim  was 


six.  17-27.]  MARY  AT  THE  CROSS.  323 

made  by  the  human  figure  standing  bound  before  them. 
There  were  men  among  them  who  would  have  advo- 
cated His  claim  to  be  the  Messiah,  who  beh'eved  Him 
to  be  a  man  sent  from  God ;  but  not  a  voice  could  be 
raised  in  His  defence  when  the  claim  to  be  Son  of  God 
in  a  Divine  sense  passed  His  lips.  His  best  friends 
must  have  doubted  and  been  disappointed,  must  have 
supposed  He  was  confused  by  the  events  of  the  night, 
and  could  only  await  the  issue  in  sorrow  and  wonder. 

Was  the  Sanhedrim,  then,  to  blame  for  condemning 
Jesus  ?  They  sincerely  believed  Him  to  be  a  blas- 
phemer, and  their  law  attached  to  the  crime  of  blasphemy 
the  punishment  of  death.  It  was  in  ignorance  they  did 
it ;  and  knowing  only  what  they  knew,  they  could  not 
have  acted  otherwise.  Yes,  that  is  true.  But  they 
were  responsible  for  their  ignorance.  Jesus  had  given 
abundant  opportunity  to  the  nation  to  understand  Him 
and  to  consider  His  claims.  He  did  not  burst  upon 
the  public  with  an  uncertified  demand  to  be  accepted  as 
Divine.  He  lived  among  those  who  were  instructed  in 
such  matters ;  and  though  in  some  respects  He  was 
very  different  from  the  Messiah  they  had  looked  for, 
a  little  openness  of  mind  and  a  little  careful  inquiry 
would  have  convinced  them  He  was  sent  from  God. 
And  had  they  acknowledged  this,  had  they  allowed 
themselves  to  obey  their  instincts  and  say,  This  is  a 
true  man,  a  man  who  has  a  message  for  us — had  they 
not  sophisticated  their  minds  with  quibbling  literalities, 
they'  would  have  owned  His  superiority  and  been 
willing  to  learn  from  tlim.  And  had  they  shown  any 
disposition  to  learn,  Jesus  was  too  wise  a  teacher  to 
hurry  them  and  overleap  needed  steps  in  conviction 
and  experience.  He  would  have  been  slow  to  extort 
from  any  a  confession  of  His  divinity  until  they  had 


324  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

reached  the  belief  of  it  by  the  working  of  their  own 
minds.  Enough  for  Him  that  they  were  wiUing  to  see 
the  truth  about  Him  and  to  declare  it  as  they  saw  it. 
The  great  charge  He  brought  against  His  accusers  was 
that  they  did  violence  to  their  own  convictions.  The 
uneasy  suspicions  they  had  about  His  dignity  they 
suppressed  ;  the  attraction  they  at  times  felt  to  His 
goodness  they  resisted  ;  the  duty  to  inquire  patiently 
into  His  claims  they  refused.  And  thus  their  darkness 
deepened,  until  in  their  culpable  ignorance  they  com- 
mitted the  greatest  of  crimes. 

From  all  this,  then,  two  things  are  apparent.  First, 
that  Jesus  was  condemned  on  the  charge  of  blasphemy — 
condemned  because  He  made  Himself  equal  with  God. 
His  own  words,  pronounced  upon  oath,  administered 
in  the  most  solemn  manner,  were  understood  by  the 
Sanhedrim  to  be  an  explicit  claim  to  be  the  Son  of  God 
in  a  sense  in  which  no  man  could  without  blasphemy 
claim  to  be  so.  He  made  no  explanation  of  His  words 
when  He  saw  how  they  were  understood.  And  yet, 
were  He  not  truly  Divine,  there  was  no  one  who  could 
have  been  more  shocked  than  Himself  by  such  a  claim. 
He  understood,  if  any  man  did,  the  majesty  of  God  ; 
He  knew  better  than  any  other  the  difference  between 
the  Holy  One  and  His  sinful  creatures ;  His  whole  life 
was  devoted  to  the  purpose  of  revealing  to  men  the 
unseen  God.  What  could  have  seemed  to  Him  more 
monstrous,  what  could  more  effectually  have  stultified 
the  work  and  aim  of  His  life,  than  that  He,  being  a 
man,  should  allow  Himself  to  be  taken  for  God  ? 
When  Pilate  told  Him  that  He  was  charged  with 
claiming  to  be  a  king.  He  explained  to  Pilate  in  what 
sense  He  did  so,  and  removed  from  Pilate's  mind  the 
erroneous  supposition   this  claim   had  given  birth  to. 


xix.  17-27.]  MARY  AT  THE  CROSS.  325 

Had  the  Sanhedrim  cherished  an  erroneous  idea  of 
what  was  involved  in  His  claim  to  be  the  Son  of  God, 
He  must  also  have  explained  to  them  in  what  sense 
He  made  it,  and  have  removed  from  their  minds  the 
impression  that  He  was  claiming  to  be  properly  Divine. 
He  did  not  make  any  explanation  ;  He  allowed  them  to 
suppose  He  claimed  to  be  the  Son  of  God  in  a  sense 
which  would  be  blasphemous  in  a  mere  man.  So  that 
if  any  one  gathers  from  this  that  Jesus  was  Divine  in 
a  sense  in  which  it  were  blasphemy  for  any  other  man 
to  claim  to  be,  he  gathers  a  legitimate,  even  a  necessary, 
inference. 

Another  reflection  which  is  forced  upon  the  reader 
of  this  narrative  is,  that  disaster  waits  upon  stifled 
inquiry.  The  Jews  honestly  convicted  Christ  as  a 
blasphemer  because  they  had  dishonestly  denied  Him 
to  be  a  good  man.  The  little  spark  which  would  have 
grown  into  a  blazing  light  they  put  their  heel  upon. 
Had  they  at  the  first  candidly  considered  Him  as  He 
went  about  doing  good  and  making  no  claims,  they 
would  have  become  attached  to  Him  as  His  disciples 
did,  and,  like  them,  would  have  been  led  on  to  a  fuller 
knowledge  of  the  meaning  of  His  person  and  work. 
It  is  these  beginnings  of  conviction  we  are  so  apt  to 
abuse.  It  seems  so  much  smaller  a  crime  to  kill  an 
infant  that  has  but  once  drawn  breath  than  to  kill  a 
man  of  lusty  life  and  busy  in  his  prime  ;  but  the  one, 
if  fairly  dealt  with,  will  grow  to  be  the  other.  And 
while  we  think  very  little  of  stifling  the  scarcely 
breathed  whisperings  in  our  own  heart  and  mind,  we 
should  consider  that  it  is  only  such  whisperings  that 
can  bring  us  to  the  loudly  proclaimed  truth.  If  we  do 
not  follow  up  suggestions,  if  we  do  not  push  inquiry 
to  discovery,  if  we  do  not  value  the  smallest  grain  of 


326  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

truth  as  a  seed  of  unknown  worth  and  count  it  wicked 
to  kill  even  the  smallest  truth  in  our  souls,  we  can 
scarcely  hope  at  any  time  to  stand  in  the  full  light  of 
reality  and  rejoice  in  it.  To  accept  Christ  as  Divine 
may  be  at  present  beyond  us ;  to  acknowledge  Him  as 
such  would  simply  be  to  perjure  ourselves ;  but  can  we 
not  acknowledge  Him  to  be  a  true  man,  a  good  man, 
a  teacher  certainly  sent  from  God?  If  we  do  know 
Him  to  be  all  that  and  more,  then  have  we  thought 
this  out  to  its  results  ?  Knowing  Him  to  be  a  unique 
figure  among  men,  have  we  perceived  what  this  in- 
volves ?  Admitting  Him  to  be  the  best  of  men,  do  we 
love  Him,  imitate  Him,  ponder  His  words,  long  for 
His  company  ?  Let  us  not  treat  Him  as  if  He  were 
non-existent  because  He  is  not  as  yet  to  us  all  that 
He  is  to  some.  Let  us  beware  of  dismissing  all  con- 
viction about  Him  because  there  are  some  convictions 
spoken  of  by  other  people  which  we  do  not  feel.  It  is 
better  to  deny  Christ  than  to  deny  our  own  convictions  ; 
for  to  do  so  is  to  extinguish  the  only  light  we  have, 
and  to  expose  ourselves  to  all  disaster.  The  man  who 
has  put  out  his  own  eyes  cannot  plead  blindness  in 
extenuation  of  his  not  seeing  the  lights  and  running  the 
richly  laden  ship  on  the  rocks. 

Guided  by  the  perfect  taste  which  reverence  gives, 
John  says  very  little  about  the  actual  crucifixion.  He 
shows  us  indeed  the  soldiers  sitting  down  beside  the 
little  heap  of  clothes  they  had  stripped  off  our  Lord, 
parcelling  them  out,  perhaps  already  assuming  them  as 
their  own  wear.  For  the  clothes  by  which  our  Lord 
had  been  known  these  soldiers  would  now  carry  into 
unknown  haunts  of  drunkenness  and  sin,  emblems  of 
our  ruthless,  thoughtless  desecration  of  our  Lord's 
name  with  which  we  outwardly  clothe  ourselves  and 


xix.  17-27.]  MARY  AT  THE  CROSS.  327 

yet  carry  into  scenes  the  most  uncongenial.  John, 
writing  long  after  the  event,  seems  to  have  no  heart 
to  record  the  poor  taunts  with  which  the  crowd  sought 
to  increase  the  suffering  of  the  Crucified,  and  force 
home  upon  His  spirit  a  sense  of  the  desolation  and 
ignominy  of  the  cross.  Gradually  the  crowd  wearies 
and  scatters,  and  only  here  and  there  a  little  whispering 
group  remains.  The  day  waxes  to  its  greatest  heat ; 
the  soldiers  lie  or  stand  silent ;  the  centurion  sits 
motionless  on  his  motionless,  statue-like  horse ;  the 
stillness  of  death  falls  upon  the  scene,  only  broken 
at  intervals  by  a  groan  from  one  or  other  of  the  crosses. 
Suddenly  through  this  silence  there  sound  the  words, 
"Woman,  behold  thy  son:  son,  behold  thy  mother," 
— words  which  remind  us  that  all  this  dreadful  scene 
which  makes  the  heart  of  the  stranger  bleed  has  been 
witnessed  by  the  mother  of  the  Crucified.  As  the 
crowd  had  broken  up  from  around  the  crosses,  the  little 
group  of  women  whom  John  had  brought  to  the  spot 
edged  their  way  nearer  and  nearer  till  they  were 
quite  close  to  Him  they  loved,  though  their  lips 
apparently  were  sealed  by  their  helplessness  to  minister 
consolation. 

'These  hours  of  suffering,  as  the  sword  was  slowly 
driven  through  Mary's  soul,  according  to  Simeon's 
word,  who  shall  measure  ?  Hers  was  not  a  hysterical, 
noisy  sorrow,  but  quiet  and  silent.  There  was  nothing 
wild,  nothing  extravagant,  in  it.  There  was  no  sign 
of  feminine  weakness,  no  outcry,  no  fainting,  no  wild 
gesture  of  uncontrollable  anguish,  nothing  to  show  that 
she  was  the  exceptional  mourner  and  that  there  was 
no  sorrow  like  unto  her  sorrow.  Her  reverence  for 
the  Lord  saved  her  from  disturbiijg  His  last  moments. 
She  stood  and  saw  the  end.     She  saw  His  head  lifted 


328  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

in  anguish  and  falling  on  His  breast  in  weakness,  and 
she  could  not  gently  take  it  in  her  hands  and  wipe  the 
sweat  of  death  from  His  brow.  She  saw  His  pierced 
hands  and  feet  become  numbed  and  livid,  and  might 
not  chafe  them.  She  saw  Him  gasp  with  pain  as 
cramp  seized  part  after  part  of  His  outstretched  body, 
and  she  could  not  change  His  posture  nor  give  liberty 
to  so  much  as  one  of  His  hands.  And  she  had  to 
suffer  this  in  profound  desolation  of  spirit.  Her  life 
seemed  to  be  buried  at  the  cross.  To  the  mourning 
there  often  seems  nothing  left  but  to  die  with  the 
dying.  One  heart  has  been  the  light  of  life,  and  now 
that  light  is  quenched.  What  significance,  what  motive, 
can  life  have  any  more  ?  ^  We  valued  no  past  where 
that  heart  was  not ;  we  had  no  future  which  was  not 
concentrated  upon  it  or  in  which  it  had  no  part.  But 
the  absorption  of  common  love  must  have  been  far 
surpassed  in  Mary's  case.  None  had  been  blessed 
with  such  a  love  as  hers.  And  now  none  estimated 
as  she  did  the  spotless  innocence  of  the  Victim ;  none 
could  know  as  she  knew  the  depth  of  His  goodness, 
the  unfathomable  and  unconquerable  love  He  had  for 
all ;  and  none  could  estimate  as  she  the  ingratitude  of 
those  whom  He  had  healed  and  fed  and  taught  and 
comforted  with  such  unselfish  devotedness.  She  knew 
that  there  was  none  hke  Him,  and  that  if  any  could 
have  brought  blessing  to  this  earth  it  was  He,  and 
there  she  saw  Him  nailed  to  the  cross,  the  end  actually 
reached.  We  know  not  if  in  that  hour  she  thought  of 
the  trial  of  Abraham  ;  we  know  not  whether  she  allowed 
herself  to  think  at  all,  whether  she  did  not  merely 
suffer  as  a  mother  losing  her  son ;  but  certainly  it  must 

'  See  Faber's  Bethlehem. 


xix.  17-27.]  MARY  AT  THE   CROSS.  329 

have  been  with  intensest  eagerness  she  heard  herself 
once  more  addressed  by  Him. 

Mary  was  commended  to  John  as  the  closest  friend 
of  Jesus.  These  two  would  be  in  fullest  sympathy, 
both  being  devoted  to  Him.  It  was  perhaps  an  indi- 
cation to  those  who  were  present,  and  through  them  to 
all,  that  nothing  is  so  true  a  bond  between  human 
hearts  as  sympathy  with  Christ.  We  may  admire 
nature,  and  yet  have  many  points  of  antipathy  to  those 
who  also  admire  nature.  We  may  like  the  sea,  and  yet 
feel  no  drawing  to  some  persons  who  also  like  the  sea. 
We  may  be  fond  of  mathematics,  and  yet  find  that  this 
brings  us  into  a  very  partial  and  limited  sympathy  with 
mathematicians.  Nay,  we  may  even  admire  and  love 
the  same  person  as  others  do,  and  yet  disagree  about 
other  matters.  But  "if  Christ  is  chosen  and  loved  as 
He  ought  to  be,  that  love  is  a  determining  affection 
which  rules  all  else  within  us,  and  brings  us  into 
abiding  sympathy  with  all  who  are  similarly  governed 
and  moulded  by  that  love.  That  love  indicates  a 
certain  past  experience  and  guarantees  a  special  type 
of  character.  It  is  the  characteristic  of  the  subjects  of 
the  kingdom  of  God. 

This  care  for  His  mother  in  His  last  moments  is  of 
a  piece  with  all  the  conduct  of  Jesus.  Throughout  His 
life  there  is  an  entire  absence  of  anything  pompous  or 
excited.  Everything  is  simple.  The  greatest  acts  in 
human  history  He  does  on  the  highway,  in  the  cottage, 
among  a  group  of  beggars  in  an  entry.  The  words 
which  have  thrilled  the  hearts  and  mended  the  lives 
of  myriads  were  spoken  casually  as  He  walked  with 
a  few  friends.  Rarely  did  He  even  gather  a  crowd. 
There  was  no  advertising,  no  admission  by  ticket,  no 
elaborate  arrangements  for  a  set  speech  at  a  set  hour. 


330  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

Those  who  know  human  nature  will  know  what  to 
think  of  this  unstudied  ease  and  simplicity,  and  will 
appreciate  it.  The  same  characteristic  appears  here. 
He  speaks  as  if  He  were  not  an  object  of  contempla- 
tion ;  there  is  an  entire  absence  of  self-consciousness, 
of  ostentatious  suggestion  that  He  is  now  making 
atonement  for  the  sins  of  the  world.  He  speaks  to  His 
mother  and  cares  for  her  as  He  might  have  done  had 
they  been  in  the  home  at  Nazareth  together.  One 
despairs  of  ever  learning  such  a  lesson,  or  indeed  of 
seeing  others  learn  it.  How  like  an  ant-hill  is  the 
world  of  men  !  What  a  fever  and  excitement !  what  a 
fuss  and  fret !  what  an  ado  !  what  a  sending  of  mes- 
sengers, and  calling  of  meetings,  and  raising  of  troops, 
and  magnifying  of  little  things !  what  an  absence  of 
calmness  and  simphcity  !  But  this  at  least  we  may 
learn — that  no  duties,  however  important,  can  excuse 
us  for  not  caring  for  our  relatives.  They  are  deceived 
people  who  spend  all  their  charity  and  sweetness  out 
of  doors,  who  have  a  reputation  for  godhness,  and  are 
to  be  seen  in  the  forefront  of  this  or  that  Christian 
work,  but  who  are  sullen  or  imperious  or  quick- 
tempered or  indifferent  at  home.  If  while  saving  a 
world  Jesus  had  leisure  to  care  for  His  mother,  there 
are  no  duties  so  important  as  to  prevent  a  man  from 
being  considerate  and  dutiful  at  home. 

Those  who  witnessed  the  hurried  events  of  the 
morning  when  Christ  was  crucified  might  be  pardoned 
if  their  minds  were  filled  with  what  their  eyes  saw, 
and  if  little  but  the  outward  objects  were  discernible  to 
them.  We  are  in  different  circumstances,  and  may  be 
expected  to  look  more  deeply  into  what  was  happening. 
To  see  only  the  mean  scheming  and  wicked  passions 
of  men,  to  see  nothing  but  the  pathetic  suffering  of  an 


xix.  17-27.]  MARY  AT  THE   CROSS.  33I 

innocent  and  misjudged  person,  to  take  our  interpre- 
tation of  these  rapid  and  disorderly  events  from  the 
casual  spectators  without  striving  to  discover  God's 
meaning  in  them,  would  indeed  be  a  flagrant  instance 
of  what  has  been  called  "reading  God  in  a  prose  trans- 
lation," rendering  His  clearest  and  most  touching  utter- 
ance to  this  world  in  the  language  of  callous  Jews  or 
barbarous  Roman  soldiers.  Let  us  open  our  ear  to 
God's  own  meaning  in  these  events,  and  we  hear  Him 
uttering  to  us  all  His  Divine  love,  and  in  the  most 
forcible  and  touching  tones.  These  are  the  events  in 
which  His  deepest  purposes  and  tenderest  love  find 
utterance.  How  He  is  striving  to  win  His  way  to  us 
to  convince  us  of  the  reality  of  sin  and  of  salvation ! 
To  be  mere  spectators  of  these  things  is  to  convict  our- 
selves of  being  superficial  or  strangely  callous.  Scarcely 
any  criminal  is  executed  but  we  all  have  our  opinion  on 
the  justice  or  injustice  of  his  condemnation.  We  may 
well  be  expected  to  form  our  judgment  in  this  case, 
and  to  take  action  upon  it.  If  Jesus  was  unjustly  con- 
demned, then  we  as  well  as  His  contemporaries  have 
to  do  with  His  claims.  If  these  claims  were  true,  we 
have  something  more  to  do  than  merely  to  say  so. 


XXT. 

THE  CRUCIFIXION. 


333 


"The  soldiers  therefore,  when  they  had  crucified  Jesus,  took  His 
garments,  and  made  four  parts,  to  every  soldier  a  part ;  and  also  the 
coat :  now  the  coat  was  without  seam,  woven  from  the  top  throughout. 
They  said  therefore  one  to  another,  Let  us  not  rend  it,  but  cast  lots  for 
it,  whose  it  shall  be  :  that  the  scripture  might  be  fulfilled,  which  sailh, 
They  parted  My  garments  among  them.  And  upon  My  vesture  did  they 
cast  lots.  These  things  therefore  the  soldiers  did.  .  .  .  After  this  Jesus, 
knowing  that  all  things  are  now  finished,  that  the  scripture  might  be 
accomplished,  saith,  I  thirst.  There  was  set  there  a  vessel  full  of 
vinegar :  so  they  put  a  sponge  full  of  the  vinegar  upon  hyssop,  and 
brought  it  to  His  mouth.  When  Jesus  therefore  had  received  the  vinegar, 
He  said,  It  is  finished :  and  He  bowed  His  head,  and  gave  up  His 
spirit.  The  Jews  therefore,  because  it  was  the  Preparation,  that  the 
bodies  should  not  remain  on  the  cross  upon  the  Sabbath  (for  the  day  of 
that  Sabbath  was  a  high  day),  asked  of  Pilate  that  their  legs  might  be 
broken,  and  that  they  might  be  taken  away.  The  soldiers  therefore 
came,  and  brake  the  legs  of  the  first,  and  of  the  other  which  was 
crucified  with  Him  :  but  when  they  came  to  Jesus,  and  saw  that  He  was 
dead  already,  they  brake  not  His  legs  :  howbeit  one  of  the  soldiers  with 
a  spear  pierced  His  side,  and  straightway  there  came  out  blood  and 
water.  And  he  that  hath  seen  hath  borne  witness,  and  his  witness  is 
true  :  and  he  knoweth  that  he  saith  true,  that  ye  also  may  believe.  For 
these  things  came  to  pass,  that  the  scripture  might  be  fulfilled,  A  bone 
of  Him  shall  not  be  broken.  And  again  another  scripture  saith,  They 
shall  look  on  Him  whom  they  pierced." — ^John  xix.  23,  24,  28-37. 


334 


XXI. 

THE  CRUCIFIXION. 

POSSIBLY  the  account  which  John  gives  of  the 
Crucifixion  is  somewhat  spoiled  to  some  readers 
by  his  frequent  reference  to  apparently  insignificant 
coincidences  with  Old  Testament  prophecy.  It  is, 
however,  to  be  remembered  that  John  was  himself  a 
Jew,  and  was  writing  for  a  public  which  laid  great 
stress  on  such  literal  fulfilments  of  prophecy.  The 
wording  of  the  narrative  might  lead  us  to  suppose  that 
John  believed  Jesus  to  be  intentionally  fulfilling  pro- 
phecy. Where  he  says,  "After  this,  Jesus  knowing 
that  all  things  were  now  accomplished,  that  the  scrip- 
ture might  be  fulfilled,  saith,  I  thirst,"  it  might  be 
fancied  that  John  supposed  that  Jesus  said  "  I  thirst " 
in  order  that  Scripture  might  be  fulfilled.  This  is,  of 
course,  to  misconceive  the  Evangelist's  meaning.  Such 
a  fulfilment  would  have  been  fictitious,  not  real.  But 
John  believes  that  in  each  smallest  act  and  word  of  our 
Lord  the  will  of  God  was  finding  expression,  a  will 
which  had  long  since  been  uttered  in  the  form  of  Old 
Testament  prophecy.  In  these  hours  of  dismay,  when 
Jesus  was  arrested,  tried,  and  crucified  before  the  eyes 
of  His  disciples,  they  tried  to  believe  that  this  was 
God's  will ;  and  long  afterwards,  when  they  had  found 
time  to  think,  and  when  they  had  to  deal  with  men  who 

335 


336  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

felt  the  difficulty  of  believing  in  a  crucified  Saviour, 
they  pointed  to  the  fact  that  even  in  small  particulars 
the  sufferings  of  the  Messiah  had  been  anticipated  and 
were  to  be  expected. 

The  first  instance  of  this  which  John  cites  is  the 
manner  in  which  the  soldiers  dealt  with  His  clothes. 
After  fixing  Jesus  to  the  cross  and  raising  it,  the  four 
men  who  were  detailed  to  this  service  sat  down  to 
watch.  Such  was  the  custom,  lest  friends  should 
remove  the  crucified  before  death  supervened.  Having 
settled  themselves  for  this  watch,  they  proceeded  to 
divide  the  clothes  of  Jesus  among  them.  This  also 
was  customary  among  the  Romans,  as  it  has  been 
everywhere  usual  that  the  executioners  should  have 
as  their  perquisite  some  of  the  articles  worn  by  the 
condemned.  The  soldiers  parted  the  garments  of  Jesus 
among  them,  each  of  the  four  taking  what  he  needed 
or  fancied — turban,  shoes,  girdle,  or  under-coat ;  while 
for  the  large  seamless  plaid  that  was  worn  over  all 
they  cast  lots,  being  unwilling  to  tear  it.  All  this  ful- 
filled an  old  prediction  to  the  letter.  The  reason  why 
it  had  been  spoken  of  was  that  it  formed  a  weighty 
element  in  the  suffering  of  the  crucified.  Few  things 
can  make  a  dying  man  feel  more  desolate  than  to  over- 
hear those  who  sit  round  his  bed  already  disposing  of 
his  effects,  counting  him  a  dead  man  who  can  no  longer 
use  the  apparatus  of  the  living,  and  congratulating 
themselves  on  the  profit  they  make  by  his  death.  How 
furious  have  old  men  sometimes  been  made  by  any 
betrayal  of  eagerness  on  the  part  of  their  heirs  !  Even 
to  calculate  on  a  man's  death  and  make  arrangements 
for  filling  his  place  is  justly  esteemed  indecorous  and 
unfeeling.  To  ask  a  sick  man  for  anything  he  has 
been    accustomed    to  use,  and    must    use  again   if  he 


XIX.  23, 24, 28-37.]         THE  CRUCIFIXION.  337 

recovers  health,  is  an  act  which  only  an  indelicate 
nature  could  be  guilty  of.  It  was  a  cruel  addition, 
then,  to  our  Lord's  suffering  to  see  these  men  heart- 
lessly dividing  among  them  all  He  had  to  leave.  It 
forced  on  His  mind  the  consciousness  of  their  utter 
indifference  to  His  feelings.  His  clothes  were  of  some 
little  value  to  them  :  He  Himself  of  no  value.  Nothing 
could  have  made  Him  feel  more  separated  from  the 
world  of  the  living — from  their  hopes,  their  ways,  their 
life — as  if  already  He  were  dead  and  buried. 

This  distribution  of  His  clothes  was  also  calculated 
to  make  Him  intensely  sensible  of  the  reality  and 
finality  of  death.  Jesus  knew  He  was  to  rise  again  ; 
but  let  us  not  forget  that  Jesus  was  human,  liable 
to  the  same  natural  fears,  and  moved  by  the  same 
circumstances  as  ourselves.  He  knew  He  was  to  rise 
again  ;  but  how  much  easier  had  it  been  to  believe  in 
that  future  life  had  all  the  world  been  expecting  Him 
to  rise  !  But  here  were  men  showing  that  they  very 
well  knew  He  would  never  again  need  these  clothes 
of  His. 

A  comparison  of  this  narrative  with  the  other  Gospels 
brings  out  that  the  Vvords  "  I  thirst "  must  have  been 
uttered  immediately  after  the  fearful  cry  "  My  God,  My 
God,  why  hast  Thou  forsaken  Me  ?  "  For  when  the 
soldier  was  mercifully  pressing  the  sponge  steeped  in 
vinegar  to  His  parched  lips,  some  of  the  bystanders 
called  out,  "  Let  be :  let  us  see  whether  Elias  will  come 
to  save  Him,"  referring  to  the  words  of  Jesus,  which 
they  had  not  rightly  understood.  And  this  expression 
of  bodily  suffering  is  proof  that  the  severity  of  the 
spiritual  struggle  was  over.  So  long  as  that  deep 
darkness  covered  His  spirit  He  was  unconscious  of 
His  body ;  but  with  the  agonised  cry  to  His  Father  the 

VOL.    II.  22 


338  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

darkness  had  passed  away;  the  very  uttering  of  His 
desolation  had  disburdened  His  spirit,  and  at  once  the 
body  asserts  itself.  As  in  the  wilderness  at  the  open- 
ing of  His  career  He  had  been  for  many  days  so 
agitated  and  absorbed  in  mind  that  He  did  not  once 
think  of  food,  but  no  sooner  was  the  spiritual  strife 
ended  than  the  keen  sensation  of  hunger  was  the  first 
thing  to  demand  His  attention,  so  here  His  sense  of 
thirst  is  the  sign  that  His  spirit  was  now  at  rest. 

The  last  act  of  the  Crucifixion^  in  which  John  sees 
the  fulfilment  of  Old  Testament  prophecy,  is  the  omis- 
sion in  the  case  of  Jesus  of  the  common  mode  of 
terminating  the  life  of  the  crucified  by  breaking  the 
legs  with  an  iron  bar.  Jesus  being  already  dead,  this 
was  considered  unnecessary ;  but  as  possibly  He 
might  only  have  swooned,  and  as  the  bodies  were 
immediately  taken  down,  one  of  the  soldiers  makes 
sure  of  His  death  by  a  lance  thrust.  Medical  men 
and  scholars  have  largely  discussed  the  causes  which 
might  produce  the  outflow  of  blood  and  water  which 
John  affirms  followed  this  spear  thrust,  and  various 
causes  have  been  assigned.  But  it  is  a  point  which  has 
apparently  only  physiological  interest.  John  indeed 
follows  up  his  statement  of  what  he  saw  with  an 
unusually  strong  asseveration  that  what  he  says  is 
true.  "  He  that  saw  it  bare  record,  and  his  record 
is  true :  and  he  knoweth  that  he  saith  true,  that 
ye  might  believe."  But  this  strong  asseveration  is 
introduced,  not  for  the  sake  of  persuading  us  to  beheve 
that  water  as  well  as  blood  flowed  from  the  lance 
wound,  but  for  the  sake  of  certifying  the  actual  death 
of  Jesus.  The  soldiers  who  had  charge  of  the  execu- 
tion discharged  their  duty.  They  made  sure  that  the 
Crucified  was  actually  dead.     And  John's  reason  for 


xix. 23, 24,28-37]         THE  CRUCIFIXION.  339 

insisting  on  this  and  appending  to  his  statement  so 
unusual  a  confirmation  is  sufficiently  obvious.  He  was 
about  to  relate  the  Resurrection,  and  he  knows  that 
a  true  resurrection  must  be  preceded  by  a  real  death. 
If  he  has  no  means  of  establishing  the  actual  death, 
he  has  no  means  of  establishing  the  Resurrection.  And 
therefore  for  the  first  and  only  time  in  his  narrative 
he  departs  from  simple  narration,  and  most  solemnly 
asseverates  that  he  is  speaking  the  truth  and  was  an 
eyewitness  of  the  things  he  relates. 

The  emphatic  language  John  uses  regarding  the 
certainty  of  Christ's  death  is,  then,  only  an  index  to 
the  importance  he  attached  to  the  Resurrection.  He 
was  aware  that  whatever  virtue  lay  in  the  life  and 
death  of  Christ,  this  virtue  became  available  for  men 
through  the  Resurrection.  Had  Jesus  not  risen  again 
all  the  hopes  His  friends  had  cherished  regarding  Him 
would  have  been  buried  in  His  tomb  Had  He  not 
risen  His  words  would  have  been  falsified  and  doubt 
thrown  upon  all  His  teaching.  Had  He  not  risen  His 
claims  would  have  been  unintelligible  and  His  whole 
appearance  and  life  a  mystery,  suggesting  a  greatness 
not  borne  out — different  from  other  men,  yet  subject 
to  the  same  defeat.  Had  He  not  risen  the  very 
significance  of  His  life  would  have  been  obscured ; 
and  if  for  a  time  a  few  friends  cherished  His  memory 
in  private,  His  name  would  have  fallen  back  to  an 
obscure,  possibly  a  dishonoured,  place. 

It  is  not  at  once  obvious  what  we  are  to  make  of  the 
physical  sufferings  of  Christ.  Certainly  it  is  very  easy 
to  make  too  much  of  them.  For,  in  the  first  place,  they 
were  very  brief  and  confined  to  one  part  of  His  life. 
He  was  exempt  from  the  prolonged  weakness  and 
misery  which   many  persons  endure   throughout  life. 


340  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

Born,  as  we  may  reasonably  suppose,  with  a  healthy 
and  vigorous  constitution,  carefully  reared  by  the  best 
of  mothers,  finding  a  livelihood  in  His  native  village 
and  in  His  father's  business,  His  lot  was  very  different 
from  the  frightful  doom  of  thousands  who  are  born 
with  diseased  and  distorted  body,  in  squalid  and  wicked 
surroundings,  and  who  never  see  through  the  misery 
fhat  encompasses  them  to  any  happy  or  hopeful  life. 
And  even  after  He  left  the  shelter  and  modest  comforts 
of  the  Nazareth  home  His  life  was  spent  in  healthy 
conditions,  and  often  in  scenes  of  much  beauty  and 
interest.  Free  to  move  about  through  the  country  as 
He  pleased,  passing  through  vineyards  and  olive-groves 
and  cornfields,  talking  pleasantly  with  His  little  com- 
pany of  attached  friends  or  addressing  large  audiences, 
He  lived  an  open-air  life  of  a  kind  in  which  of  necessity 
there  must  have  been  a  great  deal  of  physical  pleasure 
and  healthful  enjoyment.  At  times  He  had  not  where 
to  lay  His  head ;  but  this  is  mentioned  rather  as 
a  symptom  of  His  want  of  friends  than  as  implying 
any  serious  physical  suffering  in  a  climate  like  that  of 
Palestine.  And  the  suffering  at  the  close  of  His  life, 
though  extreme,  was  brief,  and  was  not  to  be  compared 
in  its  cruelty  to  what  many  of  His  followers  have 
endured  for  His  sake. 

Two  things,  however,  the  physical  sufferings  of  Christ 
do  secure :  they  call  attention  to  His  devotedness,  and 
they  illustrate  His  willing  sacrifice  of  self  They  call 
attention  to  His  devotedness  and  provoke  a  natural 
sympathy  and  tenderness  of  spirit  in  the  beholder, 
qualities  which  are  much  needed  in  our  consideration 
of  Christ.  Had  He  passed  through  life  entirely  exempt 
from  suffering,  in  high  position,  with  every  want  eagerly 
ministered  to,  untouched  by  any  woe,  and  at  last  passing 


xix.  23, 24, 28-37.]  THE  CRUCIFIXION.  341 

away  by  a  painless  decease,  we  should  find  it  much 
harder  to  respond  to  His  appeal  or  even  to  understand 
His  work.  Nothing  so  quickly  rivets  our  attention  and 
stirs  our  sympathy  as  physical  pain.  We  feel  disposed 
to  listen  to  the  demands  of  one  who  is  suffering,  and 
if  we  have  a  lurking  suspicion  that  we  are  somehow 
responsible  for  that  suffering  and  are  benefited  by  it, 
then  we  are  softened  by  a  mingled  pity,  admiration, 
and  shame,  which  is  one  of  the  fittest  attitudes  a 
human  spirit  can  assume. 

Besides,  it  is  through  the  visible  suffering  we  can 
read  the  willingness  of  Christ's  self-surrender.  It  was 
always  more  difficult  for  Him  to  suffer  than  for  us. 
We  have  no  option  :  He  might  have  rescued  Himself 
at  any  moment.  We,  in  suffering,  have  but  to  subdue 
our  disposition  to  murmur  and  our  sense  of  pain  :  He 
had  to  subdue  what  was  much  more  obstinate — His 
consciousness  that  He  might  if  He  pleased  abjure  the 
life  that  involved  pain.  The  strain  upon  His  love  for 
us  was  not  once  for  all  over  when  He  became  man. 
He  Himself  intimates,  and  His  power  of  working 
miracles  proves,  that  at  each  point  of  His  career  He 
might  have  saved  Himself  from  suffering,  but  would  not. 

When  we  ask  ourselves  what  we  are  to  make  of 
these  sufferings  of  Christ,  we  naturally  seek  aid  from 
the  Evangelist  and  ask  what  he  made  of  them.  But 
on  reading  his  narrative  we  are  surprised  to  find  so 
little  comment  or  reflection  interrupting  the  simple 
relation  of  facts.  At  first  sight  the  narrative  seems 
to  flow  uninterruptedly  on,  and  to  resemble  the  story 
which  might  be  told  of  the  closing  scenes  of  an  ordi- 
nary life  terminating  tragically.  The  references  to  Old 
Testament  prophecy  alone  give  us  the  clue  to  John's 
thoughts  about  the  significance  of  this  death.     These 


342  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

references  show  us  that  he  considered  that  in  this  public 
execution,  conducted  wholly  by  Roman  soldiers,  who 
could  not  read  a  word  of  Hebrew  and  did  not  know  the 
name  of  the  God  of  the  Jews,  there  was  being  fulfilled 
the  purpose  of  God  towards  which  all  previous  history 
had  been  tending.     That  purpose  of  God  in  the  history 
of  man  was  accomplished  when  Jesus  breathed  His  last 
upon  the  cross.     The  cry  "  It  is  finished  "  was  not  the 
mere  gasp  of  a  worn-out  life ;  it  was  not  the  cry  of 
satisfaction  with  which  a  career  of  pain  and  sorrow  is 
terminated :  it  was  the  deliberate  utterance  of  a  clear 
consciousness  on  the  part  of  God's  appointed  Revealer 
that  now  all  had  been  done  that  could  be  done  to  make 
God  known  to  men  and  to  identify  Him  with  men. 
God's    purpose   had    ever    been    one   and   indivisible. 
Declared    to    men    in    various   ways,    a   hint    here,   a 
broad  light  there,  now  by  a  gleam  of  insight  in   the 
mind  of  a  prophet,  now  by  a  deed  of  heroism  in  king 
or   leader,    through    rude    symbolic    contrivances    and 
through    the   tenderest   of    human   affections   and   the 
highest  human  thoughts  God  had   been  making  men 
ever  more  and  more  sensible  that  His  one  purpose  was 
to  come  closer  and  closer  into  fellowship  with  them 
and  to  draw  them  into  a  perfect  harmony  with  Him. 
Forgiveness  and   deliverance  from   sin  were  provided 
for  them,  knowledge  of  God's  law  and  will  that  they 
might  learn  to  know  and  to  serve  Him — all  these  were 
secured  when  Jesus  cried,  "  It  is  finished." 

Why,  then,  does  John  just  at  this  point  of  the  life 
of  Jesus  see  so  many  evidences  of  the  fulfilment  of  all 
prophecy  ?  Need  we  ask  ?  Is  not  suffering  that  which 
is  the  standing  problem  of  life  ?  Is  it  not  grief  and 
trouble  and  sorrow  which  press  home  upon  our  minds 
most  convincingly  the  reality  of  sin  ?     Is  it  not  death 


xix.  23, 24, 28-37.]  THE  CRUCIFIXION.  343 

which  is  common  to  all  men  of  every  age,  race,  station, 
or  experience  ?  And  must  not  One  who  identifies  Him- 
self with  men  identify  Himself  in  this  if  in  anything  ? 
It  is  the  cross  of  Jesus  that  stands  before  the  mind  of 
John  as  the  completion  of  that  process  of  incarnation, 
of  entrance  into  human  experience,  which  fills  his 
Gospel ;  it  is  here  he  sees  the  completion  and  finishing 
of  that  identification  of  God  with  man  he  has  been 
exhibiting  throughout.  The  union  of  God  with  man 
is  perfected  when  God  submits  Himself  to  the  last 
darkest  experience  of  man.  To  some  it  seems  impos- 
sible such  a  thing  should  be;  it  seems  either  unreal, 
unthought-out  verbiage,  or  blasphemy.  To  John,  after 
he  had  seen  and  pondered  the  words  and  the  life  of 
Jesus,  all  his  ideas  of  the  Father  were  altered.  He 
learned  that  God  is  love,  and  that  to  infinite  love,  while 
there  remains  one  thing  to  give,  one  step  of  nearness 
to  the  loved  to  be  taken,  love  has  not  its  perfect  expres- 
sion. It  came  upon  him  as  a  revelation  that  God  was 
really  in  the  world.  Are  we  to  refuse  to  God  any 
true  participation  in  the  strife  between  good  and  evil  ? 
Is  God  to  be  kept  out  of  all  reality  ?  Is  He  merely 
to  look  on,  to  see  how  His  creatures  will  manage,  how 
this  and  that  man  will  bear  himself  heroically,  but 
Himself  a  mere  name,  a  lay  figure  crowned  but  otiose, 
doing  nothing  to  merit  His  crown,  doing  nothing  to 
warrant  the  worship  of  untold  worlds,  commanding 
others  to  peril  themselves  and  put  all  to  the  proof,  but 
Himself  well  out  of  range  of  all  risk,  of  all  conflict, 
of  all  tragedy  ?  How  can  we  hope  to  love  a  God 
we  remove  to  a  throne  remote  and  exalted,  from  which 
He  looks  down  on  human  life,  and  cannot  look  on  it 
as  we  do  from  the  inside !  Is  God  to  be  only  a 
dramatist,  who  arranges  thrilling  situations  for  others 


344  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

to  pass  through,  and  assigns  to  each  the  part  he  is  to 
play,  but  Himself  has  no  real  interests  at  stake  and 
no  actual  entrance  into  the  world  of  feeling,  of  hope, 
of  trial  ? 

And  if  a  Divine  Person  were  in  the  course  of  things 
to  come  into  this  human  world,  to  enter  into  our  actual 
experiences,  and  feel  and  bear  the  actual  strain  that 
we  bear,  it  is  obvious  He  must  come  incognito — not 
distinguished  by  such  marks  as  would  bring  thp  world 
to  His  feet,  and  make  an  ordinary  human  life  and 
ordinary  human  trials  impossible  to  Him.  When 
sovereigns  wish  to  ascertain  for  themselves  how  their 
subjects  live,  they  do  not  proclaim  their  approach  and 
send  in  advance  an  army  of  protection,  provision,  and 
display  ;  they  do  not  demand  to  be  met  by  the  autho- 
rities of  each  town,  and  to  be  received  by  artificial, 
stereotyped  addresses,  and  to  be  led  from  one  striking 
sight  to  another  and  from  one  comfortable  palace  to 
another :  but  they  leave  their  robes  of  state  behind 
them,  they  send  no  messenger  in  advance,  and  they 
mix  as  one  of  the  crowd  with  the  crowd,  exposed  to 
whatever  abuse  may  be  going,  and  living  for  the  time 
on  the  same  terms  as  the  rank  and  file.  This  has  been 
done  often  in  sport,  sometimes  as  matter  of  policy  or 
of  interest,  but  never  as  the  serious  method  of  under- 
standing and  lifting  the  general  habits  and  life  of  the 
people.  Christ  came  among  us,  not  as  a  kind  of  Divine 
adventure  to  break  the  tedium  of  eternal  glory,  nor 
merely  to  make  personal  observations  on  His  own 
account,  but  as  the  requisite  and  only  means  available 
for  bringing  the  fulness  of  Divine  help  into  practical 
contact  with  mankind.  But  as  all  filth  and  squalor 
are  hidden  away  in  the  slums  from  the  senses  of  the 
king,  so  that  if  he  is  to  penetrate  into  the   burrows 


xix.  23, 24, 28-37.]  THE  CRUCIFIXION.  345 

of  the  criminal  classes  and  see  the  wretchedness  of 
the  poor,  he  must  do  it  incognito,  so  if  Christ  sought 
to  bring  Divine  mercy  and  might  within  reach  of  the 
vilest,  He  must  visit  their  haunts  and  make  Himself 
acquainted  with  their  habits. 

It  is  also  obvious  that  such  a  Person  would  concern 
Himself  not  with  art  or  literature,  not  with  inventions 
and  discoveries,  not  even  with  politics  and  government 
and  social  problems,  but  with  that  which  underlies  all 
these  and  for  which  all  these  exist — with  human  cha- 
racter and  human  conduct,  with  man's  relation  to  God. 
It  is  with  the  very  root  of  human  life  He  concerns 
Himself. 

The  sufferings  of  Christ,  then,  were  mainly  inward, 
and  were  the  necessary  result  of  His  perfect  sympathy 
with  men.  That  which  has  made  the  cross  the  most 
significant  of  earthly  symbols,  and  which  has  invested 
it  with  so  wonderful  a  power  to  subdue  and  purify  the 
heart,  is  not  the  fact  that  it  involved  the  keenest  physical 
pain,  but  that  it  exhibits  Christ's  perfect  and  complete 
identification  with  sinful  men.  It  is  this  that  humbles 
us  and  brings  us  to  a  right  mind  towards  God  and 
towards  sin,  that  here  we  see  the  innocent  Son  of  God 
involved  in  suffering  and  undergoing  a  shameful  death 
through  our  sin.  It  was  His  sympathy  with  men 
which  brought  Him  into  this  world,  and  it  was  the  same 
sympathy  which  laid  Him  open  to  suffering  throughout 
His  life.  The  mother  suffers  more  in  the  illness  of 
a  child  than  in  her  own;  the  shame  of  wrong-doing 
is  often  more  keenly  felt  by  a  parent  or  friend  than 
by  the  perpetrator  himself.  If  Paul's  enthusiasm  and 
devoted  life  for  men  made  him  truly  say,  "  Who  is  weak, 
and  I  am  not  weak  ?  "  who  shall  measure  the  burden 
Christ  bore  from  day  to  day  in  the  midst  of  a  sinning 


346  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

and  suffering  world  ?  With  a  burning  zeal  for  God,  He 
was  plunged  into  an  arctic  region  where  thick-ribbed 
ice  of  indifference  met  His  warmth ;  consumed  with 
devotion  to  God's  purposes,  He  saw  everywhere  around 
Him  ignorance,  carelessness,  self-seeking,  total  mis- 
understanding of  what  the  world  is  for ;  linked  to  men 
with  a  love  which  irrepressibly  urged  Him  to  seek  the 
highest  good  for  all,  He  was  on  all  hands  thwarted  ; 
dying  to  see  men  holy  and  pure  and  godly,  He  every- 
where found  them  weak,  sinful,  gross.  It  was  this 
which  made  Him  a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted 
with  grief — loving  God  and  man  with  a  love  which  was 
the  chief  element  in  His  being,  He  could  not  get  man 
reconciled  to  God.  The  mere  sorrows  of  men  doubtless 
affected  Him  more  than  they  affect  the  most  tender- 
hearted of  men ;  but  these  sorrows — poverty,  failure, 
sickness — would  pass  away  and  would  even  work  for 
good,  and  so  might  well  be  borne.  But  when  He  saw 
men  disregarding  that  which  would  save  them  from 
lasting  sorrow ;  when  He  saw  them  giving  themselves 
to  trivialities  with  all  their  might,  and  doing  nothing  to 
recover  their  right  relation  to  God,  the  spring  of  all 
good;  when  He  saw  them  day  by  day  defeating  the 
purpose  He  lived  to  accomplish,  and  undoing  the  one 
only  work  He  thought  worth  doing, — who  can  measure 
the  burden  of  shame  and  grief  He  had  to  bear  ? 

But  it  is  not  the  suffering  that  does  us  good  and 
brings  us  to  God,  but  the  love  which  underlies  the 
suffering.  The  suffering  convinces  us  that  it  is  love 
which  prompts  Christ  in  all  His  life  and  death,— a  love 
we  may  confidently  trust  to,  since  it  is  staggered  at  no 
difficulty  or  sacrifice ;  a  love  which  aims  at  lifting  and 
helping  us ;  a  love  that  embraces  us,  not  seeking  to 
accomplish  only  one  thing  for  us,  but  necessarily,  because 


XIX.  23, 24, 28-37-]  THE  CRUCIFIXION.  347 

it  is  love  for  us,  seeking  our  good  in  all  things.  The 
power  of  earthly  love,  of  the  devotedness  of  mother, 
wife,  or  friend,  we  know ; — we  know  what  length  such 
love  will  go  :  shall  we  then  deny  to  God  the  happiness 
of  sacrifice,  the  joy  of  love  ?  Let  it  not  enter  our 
thoughts  that  He  who  is  more  closely  related  to  us 
than  any,  and  who  will  far  less  disclaim  this  relationship 
than  any,  does  not  love  us  in  practical  ways,  and  cannot 
fit  us  by  His  loving  care  for  all  that  His  holiness 
requires. 


XXII. 

THE  RESURRECTION. 


349 


*'  Now  on  the  first  day  of  the  week  cometh  Mary  Magdalene  early, 
while  it  was  yet  dark,  unto  the  tomb,  and  seeth  the  stone  taken  away 
from  the  tomb.  She  runneth  therefore,  and  cometh  to  Simon  Peter, 
and  to  the  other  disciple,  whom  Jesus  loved,  and  sailh  unto  them,  They 
liave  taken  away  the  Lord  out  of  the  tomb,  and  we  know  not  where 
they  have  laid  Him.  Peter  therefore  went  forth,  and  the  other  disciple, 
and  they  went  toward  the  tomb.  And  they  ran  both  together  :  and  the 
other  disciple  outran  Peter,  and  came  first  to  the  tomb  ;  and  stooping 
and  looking  in,  he  seeth  the  linen  cloths  lying ;  yet  entered  he  not  in. 
Simon  Peter  therefore  also  cometh,  following  him,  and  entered  into  the 
tomb  ;  and  he  beholdeth  the  linen  cloths  lying,  and  the  napkin,  that 
was  upon  His  head,  not  lying  with  the  linen  cloths,  but  rolled  up  in  a 
place  by  itself.  Then  entered  in  therefore  the  other  disciple  also,  which 
came  first  to  the  tomb,  and  he  saw,  and  believed.  For  as  yet  they 
knew  not  the  scripture,  that  He  must  rise  again  from  the  dead.  So  the 
disciples  went  away  again  unto  their  own  home.  But  Mary  was  stand- 
ing without  at  the  tomb  weeping :  so,  as  she  wept,  she  stooped  and 
looked  into  the  tomb  ;  and  she  beholdeth  two  angels  in  white  sitting, 
one  at  the  head,  and  one  at  the  feet,  where  the  body  of  Jesus  had  lain. 
And  they  say  unto  her,  Woman,  why  weepest  thou  ?  She  saith  unto 
them,  Because  they  have  taken  away  my  Lord,  and  I  know  not  where 
they  have  laid  Him.  When  she  had  thus  said,  she  turned  herself  back, 
and  beholdeth  Jesus  standing,  and  knew  not  that  it  was  Jesus.  Jesus 
saith  unto  her,  Woman,  why  weepest  thou  ?  whom  seekest  thou  ?  She, 
supposing  Him  to  be  the  gardener,  saith  unto  Him,  Sir,  if  thou  hast 
borne  Him  hence,  tell  me  where  thou  hast  laid  Him,  and  I  will  take 
Him  away.  Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Mary.  She  turned  herself,  and  saith 
unto  Him  in  Hebrew,  Rabboni ;  which  is  to  say.  Master.  Jesus  saith 
to  her,  Touch  Me  not;  for  I  am  not  yet  ascended  unto  the  Father  :  but 
go  unto  My  brethren,  and  say  to  them,  I  ascend  unto  My  Father  and 
your  Father,  and  My  God  and  your  God.  Mary  Magdalene  cometh 
and  telleth  the  disciples,  I  have  seen  the  Lord  ;  and  how  that  He  had 
said  these  things  unto  her." — ^John  xx.  l-i8. 


350 


XXII. 

THE  RESURRECTION. 

JOHN  gives  no  narrative  of  the  Resurrection  itself. 
He  gives  us  what  is  much  more  valuable — a  brief 
account  of  the  manner  in  which  he  himself  was 
convinced  that  a  resurrection  had  taken  place.  His  shy 
nature,  his  modest  reluctance  to  put  himself  forward  or 
use  the  first  person  in  his  narrative,  does  not  prevent 
him  from  seeing  that  the  testimony  of  one  who,  like 
himself,  was  an  eyewitness  of  the  facts  is  invaluable ; 
and  nothing  but  additional  interest  and  reality  is  added 
to  his  testimony  by  the  varied  periphrases  with  which 
he  veils  his  identity,  as  "the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved," 
"  that  other  disciple,"  and  so  forth. 

When  Mary  brought  the  startling  intelligence  that 
the  tomb  was  empty,  Peter  and  John  instantly  made 
for  the  spot  at  the  top  of  their  speed.  The  older  man 
was  left  behind  by  John,  but  natural  reverence  kept 
him  from  entering  the  rocky  chamber.  He  looked  in, 
however,  and  to  his  surprise  saw  enough  to  convince 
him  that  the  body  had  not  been  removed  for  interment 
elsewhere  or  to  be  cast  out  with  the  bodies  of  criminals. 
For  there  were  the  linen  cloths  in  which  He  had  been 
wrapped,  carefully  taken  off  and  left  behind.  The 
impression  made  by  this  circumstance  was  confirmed 
when    Peter   came    up,    and    they    both    entered    and 

351 


352  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

examined  the  tomb  and  made  their  inferences  together. 
For  then  they  saw  still  clearer  evidence  of  deliberation  ; 
the  napkin  which  had  been  tied  round  the  head  of  the 
dead  body  was  there  in  the  tomb,  and  it  was  folded 
and  laid  in  a  place  by  itself,  suggesting  the  leisurely 
manner  of  a  person  changing  his  clothes,  and  con- 
vincing them  that  the  body  had  not  been  removed  to 
be  laid  elsewhere.  At  once  John  was  convinced  that 
a  resurrection  had  taken  place  ;  his  Lord's  words  took 
a  new  meaning  in  this  empty  tomb.  Standing  and 
gazing  at  the  folded  cloths,  the  truth  flashed  into 
his  mind :  Jesus  has  Himself  risen  and  disencumbered 
Himself  from  these  wrappings,  and  has  departed.  It 
was  enough  for  John  :  he  visited  no  other  tomb  ;  he 
questioned  no  one ;  he  made  no  inquiries  of  his  friends 
in  the  high  priest's  household, — he  went  to  his  own 
house,  filled  with  astonishment,  with  a  thousand 
thoughts  chasing  one  another  through  his  mind, 
scarcely  listening  to  Peter's  voluble  tongue,  but  con- 
vinced that  Jesus  lived. 

This  simple  narrative  will  be  to  many  minds  more 
convincing  than  an  accumulation  of  elaborate  argu- 
ments. The  style  is  that  of  an  eyewitness.  Each 
movement  and  every  particular  is  before  his  eye  :  Mary 
bursting,  breathless,  and  gasping  out  the  startling  news ; 
the  hasty  springing  up  of  the  two  men,  and  their 
rapid  racing  along  the  streets  and  out  through  the 
city  gates  to  the  garden  ;  John  standing  panting  at  the 
rock-hewn  sepulchre,  his  stooping  down  and  peering 
into  the  dark  chamber;  Peter  toiling  up  behind,  but 
not  hesitating  a  moment,  and  entering  and  gazing  at 
this  and  that  till  the  dumb  articles  tell  their  story ;  and 
the  two  men  leave  the  sepulchre  together,  awed  and 
convinced.     And  the  eyewitness  who  thus  graphically 


XX.  i-i8.]  THE  RESURRECTION.  353 

relates  what  he  knew  of  that  great  morning  adds 
with  the  simplicity  of  a  truthful  nature,  "  he  saw  and 
believed  " — believed  then  for  the  first  time ;  for  as  yet 
they  had  not  seen  the  significance  of  certain  scriptures 
which  now  seemed  plainly  enough  to  point  to  this. 

To  some  minds  this  simple  narrative  will,  I  say, 
carry  home  the  conviction  of  the  truth  of  the  Resurrec- 
tion more  than  any  elaborate  argumentation.  There 
is  an  assuring  matter-of-factness  about  it.  Sceptics 
tell  us  that  visions  are  common,  and  that  excited 
people  are  easily  deceived.  But  we  have  no  word  of 
visions  here.  John  does  not  say  he  saw  the  Lord  : 
he  tells  us  merely  of  two  fishermen  running ;  of  solid, 
commonplace  articles  such  as  grave-clothes  ;  and  of 
observations  that  could  not  possibly  be  mistaken,  such 
as  that  the  tomb  was  empty  and  that  they  two  were  in 
it.  For  my  part  I  feel  constrained  to  believe  a  narra- 
tive like  this,  when  it  tells  me  the  grave  was  empty. 
No  doubt  their  conclusion,  that  Jesus  had  Himself 
emptied  the  tomb,  was  not  a  certain  but  only  a  pro- 
bable inference,  and,  had  nothing  more  occurred,  even 
John  himself  might  not  have  continued  so  confident ; 
but  it  is  important  to  notice  how  John  was  convinced, 
not  at  all  by  visions  or  voices  or  embodied  expectations 
of  his  own,  but  in  the  most  matter-of-fact  way  and  by 
the  very  same  kind  of  observation  that  we  use  and  rely 
upon  in  common  life.  And,  moreover,  more  did  occur  ; 
there  followed  just  such  results  as  were  in  keeping  with 
so  momentous  an  event. 

One  of  these  immediately  occurred.  Mary,  exhausted 
with  her  rapid  carrying  of  the  news  to  Peter  and  John, 
was  not  able  to  keep  pace  with  them  as  they  ran  to  the 
tomb,  and  before  she  arrived  they  were  gone.  Probably 
she  missed  them  in  the  streets  as  she  came  out  of  the 

VOL.  II.        .  23 


354  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

city ;  at  any  rate,  finding  the  tomb  still  empty  and  none 
present  to  explain  the  reason  of  it,  she  stands  there 
desolate  and  pours  out  her  distress  in  tears.  That 
grave  being  empty,  the  whole  earth  is  empty  to  her : 
the  dead  Christ  was  more  to  her  than  a  hving  world. 
She  could  not  go  as  Peter  and  John  had  gone,  for  she 
had  no  thought  of  resurrection.  The  rigid  form,  the 
unanswering  lips  and  eye,  the  body  passive  in  the 
hands  of  others,  had  fixed  on  her  heart,  as  it  commonly 
does,  the  one  impression  of  death.  She  felt  that  all 
was  over,  and  now  she  had  not  even  the  poor  consola- 
tion of  paying  some  slight  additional  attention.  She 
can  but  stand  and  lay  her  head  upon  the  stone  and  let 
her  tears  flow  from  a  broken  heart.  And  yet  again  in 
the  midst  of  her  grief  she  cannot  believe  it  true  that 
He  is  lost  to  her ;  she  returns,  as  love  will  do,  to  the 
search,  suspects  her  own  eyesight,  seeks  again  where 
she  had  sought  before,  and  cannot  reconcile  herself  to 
a  loss  so  total  and  overwhelming.  So  absorbing  is  her 
grief  that  the  vision  of  angels  does  not  astonish  her ; 
her  heart,  filled  with  grief,  has  no  room  for  wonder. 
Their  kindly  words  cannot  comfort  her ;  it  is  another 
voice  she  longs  for.  She  had  but  the  one  thought, 
"They  have  taken  away  my  Lord," — my  Lord,  as  if 
none  felt  the  bereavement  as  she.  She  supposes,  too, 
that  all  must  know  about  the  loss  and  understand  what 
she  is  seeking,  so  that  when  she  sees  the  gardener  she 
says,  "Sir,  if  thou  hast  borne  Hhn  hence."  What 
need  to  say  who  ?  Can  any  one  be  thinking  of  any 
other  but  of  Him  who  engrosses  her  thought  ? 

In  all  this  we  have  the  picture  of  a  real  and  profound 
grief,  and  therefore  of  a  real  and  profound  love.  We 
see  in  Mary  the  kind  of  affection  which  a  knowledge 
of  Jesus  was  fitted  to  kindle.     And  to  Mary  our  Lord 


XX.  i-i8.]  THE  RESURRECTION.  355 

remembered  His  promise :  "  He  that  lovethi  Me  shall 
be  loved  of  My  Father,  and  I  will  love  him  and  will 
manifest  Myself  to  him."  None  is  so  unable  as  He  to 
leave  any  who  love  Him  without  any  response  to  their 
expressions  of  affection.  He  could  not  coldly  look  on 
while  this  woman  was  eagerly  seeking  Him ;  and  it  is 
as  impossible  that  He  should  hide  Himself  now  from 
any  who  seek  Him  with  as  true  a  heart.  Sometimes 
it  would  seem  as  if  real  thirst  for  God  were  not  at 
once  allayed,  as  if  many  were  allowed  to  spend  the 
best  part  of  their  days  in  seeking ;  but  this  does  not 
invalidate  the  promise,  "He  that  seeketh,  findeth." 
For  as  Christ  is  again  and  again  removed  from  the 
view  of  men,  and  as  He  is  allowed  to  become  a  remote 
and  shadowy  figure,  He  can  be  restored  to  a  living 
and  visible  influence  in  the  world  only  by  this  man 
and  that  man  becoming  sensible  of  the  great  loss  we 
sustain  by  His  absence,  and  working  his  own  way 
to  a  clear  apprehension  of  His  continued  life.  No 
experience  which  an  honest  man  has  in  his  search  for 
the  truth  is  worthless ;  it  is  the  solid  foundation  of  his 
own  permanent  belief  and  connection  with  the  truth, 
and  it  is  useful  to  other  men. 

Mary  standing  without  at  the  sepulchre  weeping  is 
a  concrete  representation  of  a  not  uncommon  state  of 
mind.  She  stands  wondering  why  she  was  ever  so 
foolish,  so  heartkss,  as  to  leave  the  tomb  at  all — why 
she  had  allowed  it  to  be  possible  to  become  separated 
from  the  Lord.  She  looks  despairingly  at  the  empty 
grave-clothes  which  so  lately  had  held  all  that  was 
dear  to  her  in  the  world.  She  might,  she  thinks, 
had  she  been  present,  have  prevented  the  tomb  from 
being  emptied,  but  now  it  is  empty  she  cannot  fill  it 
again.     It  is  thus  that  those  who  have  been  careless 


3S6  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

about  maintaining  communion  with  Christ  reproach 
themselves  when  they  find  He  is  gone.  The  ordinances, 
the  prayers,  the  quiet  hours  of  contemplation,  that  once 
were  filled  with  Him  are  now,  like  the  linen  clothes 
and  the  napkin,  empty,  cold,  pale  forniB,  remembrances 
of  His  presence  that  make  His  absence  all  the  more 
painful.  When  we  ask  where  v  e  can  find  Him,  only 
the  hard,  mocking  echo  of  the  empty  tomb  replies. 
And  yet  this  self-reproach  is  itself  a  seeking  to  which 
He  will  respond.  To  mourn  His  absence  is  to  desire 
and  to  invite  His  presence ;  and  to  invite  His  presence 
is  to  secure  it.^ 

The  Evangelist  Mark  saw  more  in  the  Lord's  ap- 
pearance to  Mary  than  a  response  to  her  seeking  love. 
He  reminds  his  readers  that  this  was  the  woman  out 
of  whom  the  Lord  had  cast  seven  devils,  meaning 
apparently  to  suggest  that  those  who  have  most  need 
of  encouragement  from  Him  are  surest  to  get  it.  He 
had  not  appeared  to  Peter  and  John,  though  these  men 
were  to  build  up  His  Church  and  be  responsible  for 
His  cause.  To  the  man  whom  He  loved,  who  had 
stood  by  Him  at  His  trial  and  in  His  death,  who  had 
received  His  mother  and  was  now  to  be  in  His  place 
to  her.  He  made  no  sign,  but  allowed  him  to  examine 
the  empty  tomb  and  retire.  But  to  this  woman  He 
discloses  Himself  at  once.  The  love  which  sprang 
from  a  sense  of  what  she  owed  Him  kept  her  at  the 
tomb  and  threw  her  in  His  way.  Her  sense  of  depend- 
ence was  the  magnetic  point  on  earth  which  attracted 
and  disclosed  His  presence.  Observe  the  situation. 
Earth  lay  uncertain ;  some  manifestation  is  needed  to 
guide  men  at  this  critical  time ;  blank  disappointment 
or  pointless  waiting  broods  everywhere.    At  what  point 

'  See  Piisey's  sermon  on  this  sul)ject. 


XX.  i-i8.]  THE  RESURRECTION.  357 

shall  the  presence  of  Christ  break  through  and  quicken 
expectation  and  faith  ?  Shall  He  go  to  the  high 
priest's  palace  or  to  Pilate's  praetorium  and  triumph 
over  their  dismay  ?  Shall  He  go  and  lay  busy  plans 
with  this  and  that  group  of  followers  ?  On  the  con- 
trary, He  appears  to  a  poor  woman  who  can  do  nothing 
to  celebrate  His  triumph  and  might  only  discredit  it, 
if  she  proclaimed  herself  His  friend  and  herald.  But 
thus  continuous  is  the  character  of  Jesus  through  death 
and  resurrection.  The  meekness,  the  true  perception 
of  the  actual  sorrows  and  wants  of  men,  the  sense  for 
spiritual  need,  the  utter  disregard  of  worldly  powers 
and  glory,  characterise  Him  now  as  before.  The  sense 
of  need  is  what  always  effectually  appeals  to  Him. 
The  soul  that  truly  recognises  the  value  and  longs  for 
the  fellowship  and  possession  of  Christ's  purity,  devotion 
to  God,  superiority  to  worldly  aims  and  interests, 
always  wins  His  regard.  When  a  man  prays  for  these 
things  not  with  his  lips  but  with  his  life's  effort  and  his 
heart's  true  craving,  his  prayer  is  answered.  To  seek 
Christ  is  to  feel  as  Mary  felt,  to  see  with  practical 
constraining  clearness  as  she  saw,  that  He  is  the  most 
precious  of  all  possessions,  that  to  be  like  Him  is  the 
greatest  of  all  attainments ;  it  is  to  see  His  character 
with  clearness,  and  to  be  persuaded  that,  if  the  world 
gives  us  opportunity  of  becoming  like  Him  and  actually 
makes  us  like  Him,  it  has  done  for  us  all  that  is  vital 
and  permanently  important. 

As  Mary  answered  the  angels  she  heard  a  step 
behind  or  saw  the  tomb  darkened  by  a  shadow,  and 
on  turning  discerns  dimly  through  her  tears  a  figure 
which  naturally  enough  she  supposes  to  be  the  gar- 
dener— not  because  Jesus  had  assumed  the  clothes  or 
lifted  the  tools  of  the   gardener,  but   because  he  was 


3S8  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

the  likeliest  person  to  be  going  about  the  garden  at 
that  early  hour.  As  the  heart  overburdened  with  grief 
is  often  unconscious  of  the  presence  of  Christ  and 
refuses  to  be  comforted  because  it  cannot  see  Him  for 
its  sorrow,  so  Mary  through  the  veil  of  her  tears  can 
see  only  a  human  form,  and  turns  away  again,  uncon- 
scious that  He  for  whom  she  seeks  is  with  her.  As 
she  turns,  one  word  wipes  the  tears  from  her  eyes  and 
penetrates  her  heart  with  sudden  joy.  The  utterance 
of  her  name  was  enough  to  tell  her  it  was  some  one 
who  knew  her  that  was  there ;  but  there  was  a 
responsive  thrill  and  an  awaking  of  old  memories  and 
a  vibration  of  her  nature  under  the  tone  of  that  voice, 
which  told  her  whose  alone  it  could  be.  The  voice 
seemed  a  second  time  to  command  a  calm  within  her 
and  turn  her  whole  soul  to  Himself  only.  Once  before, 
that  voice  had  banished  from  her  nature  the  foul  spirits 
that  had  taken  possession  of  her ;  she  had  "  awaked 
from  hell  beneath  the  smile  of  Christ,"  and  now  again 
the  same  voice  brought  her  out  of  darkness  into  light. 
From  being  the  most  disconsolate,  Mary  became  at  a 
word  the  happiest  creature  in  the  world. 

Mary's  happiness  is  easily  understood.  No  explana- 
tion is  needed  of  the  peace  and  bliss  she  experienced 
when  she  heard  herself  owned  as  the  friend  of  the  risen 
Lord,  and  called  by  her  name  in  the  familiar  tone  by 
Him  who  stood  now  superior  to  all  risk,  assault,  and 
evil.  This  perfect  joy  is  the  reward  of  all  in  the 
measure  of  their  faith.  Christ  rose,  not  that  He  might 
bring  ecstasy  to  Mary  alone,  but  that  He  might  fill  all 
things  with  His  presence  and  His  fulness,  and  that  our 
joy  also  might  be  full.  Has  He  not  called  us  also  by 
name  ?  Has  He  not  given  us  at  times  a  consciousness 
that  He  understands  our  nature  and  what  will  satisfy 


XX.  i-i8.]  THE  RESURRECTION.  359 

it,  that  He  claims  an  intimacy  no  other  can  claim, 
that  His  utterance  of  our  name  has  a  significance  which 
no  other  lips  can  give  it  ?  Do  we  find  it  difficult  to 
enter  into  true  intercourse  with  Him ;  do  we  envy  Mary 
her  few  minutes  in  the  garden  ?  As  trul}''  as  by  the 
audible  utterance  of  our  name  does  Christ  now  invite 
us  to  the  perfect  joy  there  is  in  His  friendship ;  so 
truly  as  if  He  stood  with  us  alone,  as  with  Mary  in  the 
garden,  and  as  if  none  but  ourselves  were  present ;  as 
if  our  name  alone  filled  His  lips,  our  wants  alone  occupied 
His  heart.  Let  us  not  miss  true  personal  intercourse 
with  Christ.  Let  nothing  cheat  us  of  this  supreme  joy 
and  life  of  the  soul.  Let  us  not  slothfully  or  shyly  say, 
"  I  can  never  be  on  such  terms  of  intimacy  with  Christ, — 
I  who  am  so  unlike  Him ;  so  full  of  desires  He  cannot 
gratify ;  so  frivolous,  superficial,  unreal,  while  He  is  so 
real,  so  earnest ;  so  unloving  while  He  is  so  loving ; 
so  reluctant  to  endure  hardness,  with  views  of  life  and 
aims  so  opposed  to  His ;  so  unable  to  keep  a  pure  and 
elevated  purpose  steadfastly  in  my  mind."  Mary  was 
once  trodden  under  foot  of  evil,  a  wreck  in  whom  none 
but  Christ  saw  any  place  for  hope.  It  is  what  is  in 
Him  that  is  powerful.  He  has  won  His  supremacy  by 
love,  by  refusing  to  enjoy  His  private  rights  without 
our  sharing  them  ;  and.  He  maintains  His  supremacy 
by  love,  teaching  all  to  love  Him,  subduing  to  devoted- 
ness  the  hardest  heart — not  by  a  remote  exhibition  of 
cold,  unemotional  perfection,  but  by  the  persistence  and 
depth  of  His  warm  and  individual  love. 

Mary  had  no  time  to  reason  and  doubt.  With  one 
quick  exclamation  of  ecstatic  recognition  and  joy  she 
sprang  towards  Him.     The  one  word  "  my  Master," ' 

'   "  Rabboni "  had  more  of  reverence  in  it  than  would  be  conveyed  by 
"my  Teacher/'  and  it  is  legitimate  hereto  use  "Master"  in  its  wider  sense. 


360  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

uttered  all  her  heart.  It  is  related  of  George  Herbert 
that  when  he  was  inducted  into  the  cure  of  Bemerton 
he  said  to  a  friend  :  "  I  beseech  God  that  my  humble 
and  charitable  life  may  so  win  upon  others  as  to  bring 
glory  to  my  Jesus,  whom  I  have  this  day  taken  to  be 
my  Master  and  my  Governor,  and  I  am  so  proud  of  His 
service  that  I  will  always  call  Him  Jesus,  my  Master." 
His  biographer  adds  :  "  He  seems  to  rejoice  in  that  word 
Jesus,  and  says  that  the  adding  these  words  *  my 
Master '  to  it  and  the  often  repetition  of  them  seemed 
to  perfume  his  mind."  With  Mary  the  title  was  one 
of  indefinite  respect ;  she  found  in  Jesus  one  she  could 
always  reverence  and  trust.  The  firm,  loving  hand  that 
admits  no  soft  evasion  of  duty ;  the  steadfast  step  that 
with  equanimity  ever  goes  straight  forward  ;  the  strong 
heart  that  has  always  room  for  the  distresses  of  others  : 
the  union  with  God  which  made  Him  a  medium  to  earth 
of  God's  superiority  and  availing  compassion, — these 
things  had  made  the  words  "my  Master"  His  proper 
designation  in  her  lips.  And  our  spirit  cannot  be 
purified  and  elevated  but  by  worthy  love  and  deserved 
reverence,  by  living  in  presence  of  that  which  com- 
mands our  love  and  lifts  up  our  nature  to  what  is  above 
it.  It  is  by  letting  our  heart  and  mind  be  filled  by 
what  is  above  us  that  we  grow  in  abiding  stature  and 
become  in  our  turn  helpful  to  what  is  at  a  still  lower 
stage  than  we  are. 

But  as  Mary  sprang  forward,  and  in  a  transport  of 
affection  made  as  though  she  would  embrace  the  Lord, 
she  is  met  by  these  quick  words :  "  Touch  Me  not, 
for  I  am  not  yet  ascended  to  My  Father."  Various 
conjectural  reasons  for  this  prohibition  have  been  sup- 
posed,— as,  that  it  was  indecorous,  an  objection  which 
Christ  did  not  make  when  at  a  dinner-table  a  woman 


XX.  i-i8.]  THE  RESURRECTION.  361 

kissed  his  feet,  scandalising  the  guests  and  provoking 
the  suspicions  of  the  host;  or,  that  she  wished  to 
assure  herself  by  touch  of  the  reality  of  the  appearance, 
an  assurance  which  He  did  not  object  to  the  disciples 
making,  but  rather  encouraged  them  to  make,  as  He 
would  also  have  encouraged  Mary  had  she  needed  any 
such  test,  which  she  did  not ;  or,  that  this  vehement 
embrace  would  disturb  the  process  of  glorification 
which  was  proceeding  in  His  body !  It  is  idle  to 
conjecture  reasons,  seeing  that  He  Himself  gives  the 
reason,  "for  I  am  not  yet  ascended,"  implying  that 
such  "  touching  "  would  no  longer  be  prohibited  when 
He  was  ascended.  Mary  seems  to  have  thought  that 
already  the  "  little  while "  of  His  absence  was  past, 
and  that  now  He  was  to  be  always  with  them  upon 
earth,  helping  them  in  the  same  familiar  ways  and 
training  them  by  His  visible  presence  and  spoken 
words.  This  was  a  misconception.  He  must  first 
ascend  to  the  Father,  and  those  who  love  Him  on 
earth  must  learn  to  live  without  the  physical  appear- 
ance, the  actual  seeing,  touching,  hearing,  of  the  well- 
known  Master,  There  must  be  no  more  kissing  of  His 
feet,  but  homage  of  a  sterner,  deeper  sort ;  there  must 
be  no  more  sitting  at  table  with  Him,  and  filling  the 
mind  with  His  words,  until  they  sit  down  with  Him 
in  the  Father's  presence.  Meanwhile  His  friends  must 
walk  by  faith,  not  by  sight — by  their  inward  light 
and  spiritual  likings ;  they  must  learn  the  truer  fidelity 
that  serves  an  absent  Lord ;  they  must  acquire  the 
independent  and  inherent  love  of  righteousness  which 
can  freely  grow  only  when  relieved  from  the  over- 
mastering pressure  of  a  visible  presence,  encouraging 
us  by  sensible  expressions  of  favour,  guaranteeing  us 
against  defeat  and  danger.     Thus  only  can  the  human 


362  THE   GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

spirit  freely  grow,  showing  its  native  bent,  its  true 
tastes  and  convictions;  thus  only  can  its  capacities  for 
self-development  and  for  choosing  and  fulfilling  its  own 
destiny  be  matured. 

And  if  these  words  of  Jesus  seemed  at  first  chilling 
and  repellent,  they  were  followed  by  words  of  unmis- 
takable affection  :  "  Go  to  my  brothers,  and  say  unto 
them,  I  ascend  unto  My  Father  and  your  Father,  and 
to  My  God  and  your  God."  This  is  the  message  of 
the  risen  Lord  to  men.  He  has  become  the  fink 
between  us  and  all  that  is  highest  and  best.  We  know 
that  He  has  overcome  all  evil  and  left  it  behind ;  we 
know  that  He  is  worthy  of  the  highest  place,  that  by 
His  righteousness  and  love  He  merits  the  highest  place. 
We  know  that  if  such  an  one  as  He  cannot  go  boldly 
to  the  highest  heaven  and  claim  God  as  His  God  and 
Father,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  moral  worth,  and  all 
effort,  conscience,  hope,  responsibility,  are  vain  and 
futile.  We  know  that  Christ  must  ascend  to  the 
highest,  and  yet  we  know  also  that  He  will  not  enter 
where  we  cannot  follow.  We  know  that  His  love  binds 
Him  to  us  as  strongly  as  His  rights  carry  Him  to  God. 
We  can  as  little  believe  that  He  will  abandon  us  and 
leave  us  out  of  His  eternal  enjoyment,  as  we  can 
believe  that  God  would  refuse  to  own  Him  as  Son. 
And  it  is  this  which  Christ  puts  in  the  forefront  of  His 
message  as  risen  and  ascending  :  "  I  ascend  unto  My 
Father  and  your  Father."  The  joy  that  awaits  Me 
with  God  awaits  you  also  ;  the  power  I  go  to  exercise 
is  the  power  of  your  Father,  This  affinity  for  heaven 
which  you  see  in  Me  is  coupled  with  affinity  for  you. 
The  holiness,  the  power,  the  victory,  I  have  achieved 
and  now  enjoy  are  yours  ;  I  am  your  Brother :  what  I 
claim,  I  claim  for  you. 


XXIII. 

THOMAS'   TEST. 


.f- 


"When  therefore  it  was  evening,  on  that  day,  the  first  day  of  the 
week,  and  when  the  doors  were  shut  where  the  disciples  were,  for  fear 
of  the  Jews,  Jesus  came  and  stood  in  the  midst,  and  saith  unto  them, 
Peace  be  unto  you.  And  when  He  had  said  this,  He  showed  unto  them 
His  hands  and  His  side.  The  disciples  therefore  were  glad,  when  they 
saw  the  Lord.  Jesus  therefore  said  to  them  again.  Peace  be  unto  you  : 
as  the  Father  hath  sent  Me,  even  so  send  I  you.  And  when  He  had 
said  this,  He  breathed  on  them,  and  saith  unto  them,  Receive  ye  the 
Holy  Ghost :  whosesoever  sins  ye  forgive,  they  are  forgiven  unto  them  ; 
whosesoever  sins  ye  retain,  they  are  retained.  But  Thomas,  one  of  the 
twelve,  called  Didymus,  was  not  with  them  when  Jesus  came.  The 
other  disciples  therefore  said  unto  him.  We  have  seen  the  Lord.  But 
he  said  unto  them.  Except  I  shall  see  in  His  hands  the  print  of  the 
nails,  and  put  my  finger  into  the  print  of  the  nails,  and  put  my  hand 
into  His  side,  I  will  not  believe.  And  after  eight  days  again  His  dis- 
ciples were  within,  and  Thomas  with  them.  Jesus  cometh,  the  doors 
being  shut,  and  stood  in  the  midst,  and  said.  Peace  be  unto  you.  Then 
saith  He  to  Thomas,  Reach  hither  thy  finger,  and  see  My  hands  ;  and 
reach  hither  thy  hand,  and  put  it  into  My  side  :  and  be  not  faithless, 
but  believing.  Thomas  answered  and  said  unto  Him,  My  Lord  and  my 
God,  Jesus  saith  unto  him.  Because  thou  hast  seen  Me,  thou  hast 
believed  :  blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen,  and  yet  have  believed." 
— John  xx.  19-29. 


364 


XXIII. 

THOMAS'    TEST. 

ON  the  evening  of  the  day  whose  dawning  had 
been  signaHsed  by  the  Resurrection,  the  disciples, 
and,  according  to  Luke,  some  others,  were  together. 
They  expected  that  the  event  which  had  restored  hope 
in  their  own  hearts  would  certainly  excite  the  autho- 
rities and  probably  lead  to  the  arrest  of  some  of  their 
number.  They  had  therefore  carefully  closed  the  doors, 
that  some  time  for  parley  and  possibly  for  escape  might 
be  interposed.  But  to  their  astonishment  and  delight, 
while  they  were  sitting  thus  with  closed  doors,  the 
well-known  figure  of  their  Lord  appeared  in  their  midst, 
and  His  familiar  greeting,  "  Peace  be  with  you,"  sounded 
in  their  ears.  Further  to  identify  Himself  and  remove 
all  doubt  or  dread  He  showed  them  His  hands  and  His 
side;  and,  as  St.  Luke  tells  us,  even  ate  before  them. 
There  is  here  a  strange  mingling  of  identity  and  differ- 
ence between  the  body  He  now  wears  and  that  which 
had  been  crucified.  Its  appearance  is  the  same  in  some 
respects,  but  its  properties  are  different.  Immediate 
recognition  did  not  always  follow  His  manifestation. 
There  was  something  baffling  in  His  appearance,  sug- 
gesting a  well-known  face,  and  yet  not  quite  the  same. 
The  marks  on  the  body,  or  some  characteristic  action 
or  movement  or  utterance,  were  needed  to  complete 
the    identification.     The  properties  of  the   body  also 

365 


366  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

were  not  reducible  to  any  known  type.  He  could  eat, 
speak,  walk,  yet  He  could  dispense  with  eating  and 
could  apparently  pass  through  physical  obstacles.  His 
body  was  a  glorified,  spiritual  body,  not  subject  to  the 
laws  which  govern  the  physical  part  of  man  in  this  life. 
These  characteristics  are  worth  noticing,  not  only  as 
giving  us  some  inkling  of  the  type  of  body  which  awaits 
ourselves,  but  in  connection  with  the  identification  of 
the  risen  Lord.  Had  the  appearance  been  the  mere 
fancy  of  the  disciples,  how  should  they  have  required 
any  identification  ? 

Having  saluted  them  and  removed  their  consterna- 
tion. He  fulfils  the  object  of  His  appearance  by  giving 
them  their  commission,  their  equipment,  and  their 
authority  as  His  Apostles :  "  As  the  Father  hath  sent 
Me,  even  so  send  I  you" — to  fulfil  still  the  same 
purpose,  to  complete  the  work  begun,  to  stand  to  Him 
in  the  same  intimate  relation  as  He  had  occupied  to 
the  Father.  To  impart  to  them  at  once  all  that  they 
required  for  the  fulfilment  of  this  commission  He  be- 
stows upon  them  the  Holy  Spirit,  breathing  on  them, 
to  convey  to  them  the  impression  that  He  was  actually 
there  and  then  communicating  to  them  that  which  con- 
stituted the  very  breath  of  His  own  life.  This  is  His 
first  act  as  Lord  of  all  power  in  heaven  and  on  earth, 
and  it  is  an  act  which  inevitably  conveys  to  them  the 
assurance  that  His  life  and  theirs  is  one  life.  Impulse 
and  power  to  proclaim  Him  as  risen  they  did  not  yet 
experience.  They  must  be  allowed  time  to  settle  to 
some  composure  of  mind  and  to  some  clear  thoughts 
after  all  the  disturbing  events  of  these  last  days.  They 
must  also  have  the  confirmatory  testimony  to  the  Resur- 
rection, which  could  only  be  furnished  after  repeated 
appearances  of  the  Lord  to  themselves  and  to  others. 


XX.  19-29.]  THOMAS'    TEST.  367 

The  gift  of  the  Spirit,  therefore,  as  a  spirit  of  powerful 
witness-bearing,  was  reserved  for  six  weeks. 

With  this  perfect  equipment  our  Lord  added  the 
words  :  "  Whosesoever  sins  ye  forgive,  they  are  for- 
given unto  them ;  whosesoever  sins  ye  retain,  they 
are  retained."  These  words  have  been  the  occasion  of 
endless  controversy.^  They  certainly  convey  the  ideas 
that  the  Apostles  were  appointed  to  mediate  between 
Christ  and  their  fellow-men,  that  the  chief  function 
they  should  be  required  to  discharge  in  this  mediation 
was  the  forgiving  and  retention  of  sins,  and  that  they 
were  furnished  with  the  Holy  Spirit  to  guide  them  in 
this  mediation.  Apparently  this  must  mean  that  the  < 
Apostles  were  to  be  the  agents  through  whom  Christ 
was  to  proclaim  the  terms  of  admission  to  His  kingdom. 
They  received  authority  to  say  in  what  cases  sins  were 
to  be  forgiven  and  in  what  to  be  retained.  To  infer 
from  this  that  the  Apostles  have  successors,  that  these 
successors  are  constituted  by  an  external  ordinance  or 
nomination,  that  they  have  power  to  exclude  or  admit 
individuals  seeking  entrance  into  the  kingdom  of  God, 
is  to  leave  logic  and  reason  a  long  way  behind,  and 
to  erect  a  kind  of  government  in  the  Church  of  Christ 
which  will  never  be  submitted  to  by  those  who  live 
in  the  liberty  wherewith  His  truth  has  made  them 
free.  The  presence  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  no  bare 
external  appointment,  is  that  which  gives  authority  to 
those  who  guide  the  Church  of  Christ.  It  is  because  • 
they  are  inwardly  one  with  Christ,  not  because  they 
happen  to  be  able  to  claim  a  doubtful  outward  con- 
nection with  Him,  that  they  have  that  authority  which 
Christ's  people  own. 

'  See  Steitz'  article  Schlusseli:e%valt  in  Hcrzoo. 


368  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

But  when  our  Lord  thus  appeared  on  the  day  of  His 
resurrection  to  His  disciples  one  of  their  number  was 
absent.  This  might  not  have  been  noticed  had  not  the 
absentee  been  of  a  pecuHar  temper,  and  had  not  this 
pecuharity  given  rise  to  another  visit  of  the  Lord  and 
to  a  very  significant  restoration  of  behef  in  the  mind  of 
a  sceptical  disciple.  The  absent  disciple  was  commonly 
known  as  Thomas  or  Didymus,  the  Twin.  On  various 
occasions  he  appears  somewhat  prominently  in  the 
gospel-story,  and  his  conduct  and  conversation  on  those 
occasions  show  him  to  have  been  a  man  very  liable  to 
take  a  desponding  view  of  the  future,  apt  to  see  the 
darker  side  of  everything,  but  at  the  same  time  not 
wanting  in  courage,  and  of  a  strong  and  affectionate 
loyalty  to  Jesus.  On  one  occasion,  when  our  Lord 
intimated  to  the  disciples  His  intention  of  returning 
within  the  dangerous  frontier  of  Judaea,  the  others 
expostulated,  but  Thomas  said,  "  Let  us  also  go,  that 
we  may  die  with  Him" — an  utterance  in  which  his 
devoted  loyalty  to  his  Master,  his  dogged  courage,  and 
his  despondent  temperament  are  all  apparent.  And 
when,  some  time  afterwards,  Jesus  was  warning  His 
disciples  that  He  must  shortly  leave  them  and  go  to 
the  Father,  Thomas  sees  in  the  departure  of  his  Master 
the  extinction  of  all  hope ;  life  and  the  way  to  life  seem 
to  him  treacherous  phrases,  he  has  eyes  only  for  the 
gloom  of  death  :  "  Lord,  we  know  not  whither  Thou 
goest ;  and  how  can  we  know  the  way  ?  " 

The  absence  of  such  a  man  from  the  first  meeting 
of  the  disciples  was  to  be  expected.-^  If  the  bare  possi- 
bility of  his  Lord's  death  had  plunged  this  loving  and 
gloomy  heart  in  despondency,  what  dark  despair  must 

1  In  this  chapter  there  are  reminiscences  of  Trench. 


XX.  19-29]  THOMAS'   TEST.  369 

i 

have  preyed  upon  it  when  that  death  was  actually 
accomplished !  How  the  figure  of  his  dead  Master 
had  burnt  itself  into  his  soul  is  seen  from  the  manner 
in  which  his  mind  dwells  on  the  print  of  the  nails, 
the  wound  in  the  side.  It  is  by  these  only,  and  not 
by  well-known  features  of  face  or  peculiarities  of  form, 
he  will  recognise  and  identify  his  Lord.  His  heart 
was  with  the  lifeless  body  on  the  cross,  and  he  could 
not  bear  to  see  the  friends  of  Jesus  or  speak  with  those 
who  had  shared  his  hopes,  but  buried  his  disappoint- 
ment and  desolation  in  solitude  and  silence.  His 
absence  can  scarcely  be  branded  as  culpable.  None 
of  the  others  expected  resurrection  any  more  than  him- 
self, but  his  hopelessness  acted  on  a  specially  sensitive 
and  despondent  nature.  Thus  it  was  that,  like  many 
melancholy  pei^sons,  he  missed  the  opportunity  of  seeing 
what  would  effectually  have  scattered  his  darkness. 

But  though  he  might  not  be  to  blame  for  absenting 
himself,  he  was  to  blame  for  refusing  to  accept  the 
testimony  of  his  friends  when  they  assured  him  they 
had  seen  Jesus  risen.  There  is  a  tone  of  doggedness 
that  grates  upon  us  in  the  words,  "  Except  I  shall  see 
in  His  hands  the  print  of  the  nails,  and  put  my  finger 
into  the  print  of  the  nails,  and  thrust  my  hand  into  His 
side,  I  will  not  believe."  Some  deference  was  due  to 
the  testimony  of  men  whom  he  knew  to  be  truthful 
and  as  little  liable  to  delusion  as  himself.  We  cannot 
blame  him  for  not  being  convinced  on  the  spot ;  a  man 
cannot  compel  himself  to  beheve  anything  which  does 
not  itself  compel  belief.  But  the  obstinate  tone  sounds 
as  if  he  was  beginning  to  nurse  his  unbelief,  than 
which  there  is  no  more  pernicious  exercise  of  the 
human  ...spirit.  He  demands,  too,  what  may  never  be 
possible — the  evidence  of  his  own  senses.     He  claims 

VOL.  II.  24 


370  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 


that  he  shall  be  on  the  same  footing  as  the  rest.  Why 
is  he  to  believe  on  less  evidence  than  they  ?  It  has 
cost  him  pain  enough  to  give  up  his  hope  :  is  he  then 
to  give  up  his  hopelessness  as  cheaply  as  all  this  ? 
He  is  supremely  miserable ;  his  Lord  dead  and  life 
left  to  him — a  life  which  already  during  these  few  days 
had  grown  far  too  long,  a  weary,  intolerable  burden. 
Is  he  in  a  moment  and  on  their  mere  word  to  rise  from 
his  misery  ?  A  man  of  Thomas'  temperament  hugs 
his  wretchedness.  You  seem  to  do  him.  an  injury  if 
you  open  the  shutters  of  his  heart  and  let  in  the 
sunshine. 

Obviously,  therefore,  the  first  inference  we  naturally 
draw  from  this  state  of  mind  is  that  it  is  weak  and 
wrong  to  lay  hold  of  one  difficulty  and  insist  that  except 
this  be  removed  we  will  not  believe.  Let  this  difficulty 
about  the  constitution  of  Christ's  person,  or  this  about 
the  impossibility  of  proving  a  miracle,  or  this  about 
the  inspiration  of  Scripture  be  removed,  and  I  will 
accept  Christianity ;  let  God  grant  me  this  petition, 
and  I  will  believe  that  He  is  the  hearer  of  prayer ;  let 
me  see  this  inconsistency  or  that  explained,  and  I  will 
believe  He  governs  the  course  of  things  in  this  world. 
The  understanding  begins  to  take  a  pride  in  demanding 
evidence  more  absolute  and  strict  than  has  satisfied 
others,  and  seems  to  display  acuteness  and  fairness 
in  holding  to  one  difficulty.  The  test  which  Thomas 
proposed  to  himself  seemed  an  accurate  and  legitimate 
one  ;  but  that  he  should  have  proposed  it  shows  that 
he  was  neglecting  the  evidence  already  afforded  him, 
the  testimony  of  a  number  of  men  whose  truthfulness 
he  had  for  years  made  proof  of.  True,  it  was  a  miracle 
they  required  him  to  believe  ;  but  would  his  own  senses 
be  better  authentication  of  a  miracle  than  the  unani- 


XX.  19-29.1  THOMAS'    TEST.  371 

mous  and  explicit  declaration  of  a  company  of  veracious 
men  ?  He  could  have  no  doubt  that  they  believed 
they  had  seen  the  Lord.  If  they  could  be  deceived, 
ten  of  them,  or  many  more,  why  should  his  senses 
prove  more  infallible  ?  Was  he  to  reject  their  testi- 
mony on  the  ground  that  their  senses  had  deceived 
them,  and  accept  the  testimony  of  his  own  senses  ? 
Was  the  ultimate  test  in  his  own  case  to  be  that  very 
evidence  which  in  the  case  of  others  he  maintained  was 
insufficient  ? 

But  if  this  tells  seriously  against  Thomas,  we  must 
not  leave  out  of  account  what  tells  in  his  favour.  It  is 
true  he  was  obstinate  and  unreasonable  and  a  shade 
vain  in  his  refusal  to  accept  the  testimony  of  the 
disciples,  but  it  is  also  true  that  he  was  with  the  little 
Christian  community  on  the  second  Lord's  Day.  This 
puts  it  beyond  a  doubt  that  he  was  not  so  unbelieving 
as  he  seemed.  That  he  did  not  now  avoid  the  society 
of  those  happy,  hopeful  men  shows  that  he  was  far 
from  unwilling  to  become,  if  possible,  a  sharer  in  their 
hope  and  joy.  Perhaps  already  he  was  repenting 
having  pledged  himself  to  unbelief,  as  many  another 
has  repented.  Certainly  he  was  not  afraid  of  being 
convinced  that  his  Lord  had  arisen ;  on  the  contrary,  he 
sought  to  be  convinced  of  this  and  put  himself  in  the 
way  of  conviction.  He  had  doubted  because  he  wished 
to  believe,  doubted  because  it  was  the  full,  entire,  eternal 
confidence  of  his  soul  that  he  was  seeking  a  resting- 
place  for.  He  knew  the  tremendous  importance  to  him 
of  this  question — knew  that  it  was  literally  everything 
to  him  if  Christ  was  risen  and  was  now  alive  and  to 
be  found  by  His  people,  and  therefore  he  was  slow  to 
believe.  Therefore  also  he  kept  in  the  company  of 
believers ;   it  was  on  their  side  he  wished  to  get  out 


372  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

of  the  terrible  mire  and  darkness  in   which   he  was 
involved. 

It  is  this  which  distinguishes  Thomas  and  all  right- 
minded  doubters  from  thorough-going  and  depraved 
unbelievers.  The  one  wishes  to  believe,  would  give  the 
world  to  be  free  from  doubt,  will  go  mourning  ail 
his  days,  will  pine  in  body  and  sicken  of  life  because  he 
cannot  believe  :  "  he  waits  for  light,  but  behold  obscurity, 
for  brightness,  but  he  walks  in  darkness."  The  other, 
the  culpable  unbeliever,  thrives  on  doubt ;  he  likes  it, 
enjoys  it,  sports  it,  lives  by  it ;  goes  about  telling  people 
his  difficulties,  as  some  morbid  people  have  a  fancy  for 
showing  you  their  sores  or  detailing  their  symptoms, 
as  if  everything  which  makes  them  different  from  other 
men,  even  though  it  be  disease,  were  a  thing  to  be 
proud  of.  Convince  such  a  man  of  the  truth  and  he  is 
angry  with  you ;  you  seem  to  have  done  him  a  wrong, 
as  the  mendicant  impostor  who  has  been  gaining  his 
livelihood  by  a  bad  leg  or  a  useless  eye  is  enraged 
when  a  skilled  person  restores  to  him  the  use  of  his 
limb  or  shows  him  that  he  can  use  it  if  he  will.  You 
may  know  a  dishonest  doubter  by  the  fluency  with 
which  he  states  his  difficulties  or  by  the  affectation  of 
melancholy  which  is  sometimes  assumed.  You  may 
always  know  him  by  his  reluctance  to  be  convinced,  by 
his  irritation  when  he  is  forced  to  surrender  some  pet 
bulwark  of  unbelief.  When  you  find  a  man  reading 
one  side  of  the  question,  courting  difficulties,  eagerly 
seizing  on  new  objections,  and  provoked  instead  of 
thankful  when  any  doubt  is  removed,  you  may  be  sure 
that  this  is  not  a  scepticism  of  the  understanding  so 
much  as  an  evil  heart  of  unbelief. 

The    hesitancy   and    backwardness,    the   incredulity 
and  niggardliness  of  faith,   of  Thomas  have  done  as 


XX.  19-29.]  THOMAS'   TEST.  373 


much  to  confirm  the  minds  of  succeeding  believers  as 
the  forward  and  impulsive  confidence  of  Peter.  Then, 
as  now,  this  critical  intellect,  when  combined  with  a 
sound  heart,  wrought  two  great  boons  for  the  Church. 
The  doubts  which  such  men  entertain  continually 
provoke  fresh  evidence,  as  here  this  second  appearance 
of  Christ  to  the  Eleven  seems  due  to  the  doubt  of 
Thomas.  So  far  as  one  can  gather  it  was  solely  to 
remove  this  doubt  our  Lord  appeared.  And,  besides, 
a  second  boon  which  attends  honest  and  godly  doubt  is 
the  attachment  to  the  Church  of  men  who  have  passed 
through  severe  mental  conflict,  and  therefore  hold  the 
faith  they  have  reached  with  an  intelligence  and  a 
tenacity  unknown  to  other  men. 

These  two  things  were  simply  brought  about  in 
Thomas*  instance.  The  disciples  were  again  assem- 
bled on  the  following  Sunday,  probably  in  the  same 
place,  consecrated  for  ever  in  their  memories  as  the 
place  where  their  risen  Lord  had  appeared.  It  is 
doubtful  whether  they  were  more  expectant  of  a  fresh 
appearance  of  their  Lord  this  day  than  they  had  been 
any  day  throughout  the  week,  but  certainly  every 
reader  feels  that  it  is  not  without  significance  that  after 
a  blank  and  uneventful  week  the  first  day  should  again 
be  singled  out  to  have  this  honour  put  upon  it.  Some 
sanction  is  felt  to  be  given  to  those  meetings  of  His 
followers  which  ever  since  have  been  assembled  on  the 
first  day  of  the  week  ;  and  the  experience  of  thousands 
can  testify  that  this  day  seems  still  the  favourite  with 
our  Lord  for  manifesting  Himself  to  His  people,  and 
for  renewing  the  joy  which  a  week's  work  has  somewhat 
dimmed.  Silently  and  suddenly  as  before,  without 
warning,  without  opening  of  doors,  Jesus  stood  in  their 
midst.     But    there   was   no  terror  now — exclamation, 


374  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

only  of  delight  and  adoration.  And  perhaps  it  was  not 
in  human  nature  to  resist  casting  a  look  of  triumphant 
interrogation  at  Thomas,  a  look  of  inquiry  to  see  what 
he  would  make  of  this.  Surprise,  unutterable  surprise, 
undiminished  by  all  he  had  been  led  to  expect,  must 
have  been  written  on  Thomas'  wide-gazing  eyes  and 
riveted  look.  But  this  surprise  was  displaced  by 
shame,  this  eager  gaze  cast  down,  when  he  found  that 
his  Lord  had  heard  his  obstinate  ultimatum  and  had 
been  witness  of  his  sullen  unbelief.  As  Jesus  repeats 
almost  in  the  same  words  the  hard,  rude,  bare,  material 
test  which  he  had  proposed,  and  as  He  holds  forth  His 
hands  for  his  inspection,  shame  and  joy  struggle  for  the 
mastery  in  his  spirit,  and  give  utterance  to  the  humble 
but  glowing  confession,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God." 
His  own  test  is  superseded  ;  he  makes  no  movement  to 
put  it  in  force ;  he  is  satisfied  of  the  identity  of  his 
Lord.  It  is  the  same  penetrating  knowledge  of  man's 
inmost  thoughts,  the  same  loving  treatment  of  the 
erring,  the  same  subduing  presence. 

And  thus  it  frequently  happens  that  a  man  who  has 
vowed  that  he  will  not  believe  except  this  or  that  be 
made  plain  finds,  when  he  does  believe,  that  something 
short  of  his  own  requirements  has  convinced  him.  He 
finds  that  though  he  was  once  so  express  in  his  demands 
for  proof,  and  so  clear  and  accurate  in  his  declarations 
of  the  precise  amount  of  evidence  required,  at  the 
last  he  believes  and  could  scarcely  tell  you  why,  could 
not  at  least  show  his  belief  as  the  fine  and  clean  result 
of  a  logical  process.  Thomas  had  maintained  that  the 
rest  were  too  easily  satisfied,  but  at  the  last  he  is 
himself  satisfied  with  precisely  the  same  proof  as  they. 
And  it  is  somewhat  striking  that  in  so  many  cases 
unbelief  gives  way  to   belief,   not  by    the  removal  of 


XX.  19-29.]  THOMAS'   TEST.  375 

intellectual  difficulties,  not  by  such  demonstration  as 
was  granted  to  Thomas,  but  by  an  undefinable  conquest 
of  the  soul  by  Christ,  The  glory,  holiness,  love  of  His 
person,  subdue  the  soul  to  Him. 

The  faith  of  Thomas  is  full  of  significance.  First,  it 
is  helpful  to  our  own  faith  to  hear  so  decisive  and  so 
full  a  confession  coming  from  the  lips  of  such  a  man. 
John  himself  felt  it  to  be  so  decisive  that  after  record- 
ing it  he  virtually  closes  the  Gospel  which  he  had 
undertaken  to  write  in  order  to  persuade  men  that 
Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God.  After  this  confession  of 
Thomas  he  feels  that  no  more  can  be  said.  He  stops 
not  for  want  of  matter ;  "  many  other  signs  truly  did 
Jesus  in  the  presence  of  His  disciples  "  which  are  not 
written  in  this  Gospel.  These  seemed  sufficient.  The 
man  who  is  not  moved  by  this  will  not  be  moved  by 
any  further  proof.  Proof  is  not  what  such  a  doubter 
needs.  Whatever  we  think  of  the  other  Apostles,  it 
is  plain  that  Thomas  at  least  was  not  credulous.  If 
Peter's  generous  ardour  carried  him  to  a  confession 
unwarranted  by  the  facts,  if  John  saw  in  Jesus  the 
reflection  of  his  own  contemplative  and  loving  nature, 
what  are  we  to  say  of  the  faith  of  Thomas  ?  He  had 
no  determination  to  see  only  what  he  desired,  no  readi- 
ness to  accept  baseless  evidence  and  irresponsible  testi- 
mony. He  knew  the  critical  nature  of  the  situation, 
the  unique  importance  of  the  matter  presented  to  his 
faith.  With  him  there  was  no  frivolous  or  thoughtless 
underrating  of  difficulties.  He  did  not  absolutely  deny 
the  possibility  of  Christ's  resurrection,  but  he  went  very 
near  doing  so,  and  showed  that  practically  he  con- 
sidered it  either  impossible  or  unlikely  in  the  extreme. 
But  in  the  end  he  believes.  And  the  ease  with  which 
he   passes    from    doubt    to    faith   proves    his    honesty 


376  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

and  sound-heartedness.  As  soon  as  evidence  which 
to  him  is  convincing  is  produced,  he  proclaims  his  faith. 
His  confession,  too,  is  fuller  than  that  of  the  other 
disciples.  The  week  of  painful  questioning  had  brought 
clearly  before  his  mind  the  whole  significance  of  the 
Resurrection,  so  that  he  does  not  hesitate  to  own  Jesus 
as  his  God.  When  a  man  of  profound  spiritual  feeling 
and  of  good  understanding  has  doubts  and  hesitations 
from  the  very  intensity  and  subtlety  of  his  scrutiny 
of  what  appears  to  him  of  transcendent  importance; 
when  he  sees  difficulties  unseen  by  men  who  are  too 
little  interested  in  the  matter  to  recognise  them  even 
though  they  stare  them  in  the  face, — when  such  a 
man,  with  the  care  and  anxiety  that  befit  the  subject, 
considers  for  himself  the  claims  of  Christ,  and  as  the 
result  yields  himself  to  the  Lord,  he  sees  more  in 
Christ  than  other  men  do,  and  is  likely  to  be  steadier 
in  his  allegiance  than  if  he  had  slurred  over  apparent 
obstacles  instead  of  removing  them,  and  stifled  objec- 
tions in  place  of  answering  them.  It  was  not  the  mere 
seeing  of  Christ  risen  which  prompted  the  full  con- 
fession of  Thomas.  But  slowly  during  that  week  of 
suspense  he  had  been  taking  in  the  full  significance  of 
the  Resurrection,  coming  at  the  close  of  such  a  life  as 
he  knew  the  Lord  had  lived.  The  very  idea  that  such 
a  thing  was  believed  by  the  rest  forced  his  mind  back 
upon  the  exceptional  character  of  Jesus,  His  wonderful 
works,  the  intimations  He  had  given  of  His  connection 
with  God.  The  sight  of  Him  risen  came  as  the  key- 
stone of  the  arch,  which  being  wanting  all  had  fallen 
to  the  ground,  but  being  inserted  clenched  the  whole, 
and  could  now  bear  any  weight.  The  truths  about 
His  person  which  Thomas  had  begun  to  explain  away 
return  upon  his  mind  with  resistless  force,  and  each 


XX.  19-29.]  THOMAS'   TEST.  377 

in  clear,  certain  verity.  He  saw  now  that  his  Lord 
had  performed  all  His  word,  had  proved  Himself 
supreme  over  all  that  affected  men.  He  saw  Him 
after  passing  through  unknown  conflict  with  princi- 
palities and  powers  come  to  resume  fellowship  with 
sinful  men,  standing  with  all  things  under  His  feet, 
yet  giving  His  hand  to  the  weak  disciple  to  make  him 
partake  in  His  triumph. 

This  was  a  rare  and  memorable  hour  for  Thomas, 
one  of  those  moments  that  mark  a  man's  spirit  per- 
manently. He  is  carried  entirely  out  of  himself,  and 
sees  nothing  but  his  Lord.  The  whole  energy  of  his 
spirit  goes  out  to  Him  undoubtingly,  unhesitatingly, 
unrestrained.  Everything  is  before  him  in  the  person 
of  Christ ;  nothing  causes  the  least  diversion  or  dis- 
traction. For  once  his  spirit  has  found  perfect  peace. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  unseen  world  that  can  dismay 
him,  nothing  in  the  future  on  which  he  can  spend 
a  thought ;  his  soul  rests  in  the  Person  before  him. 
He  does  not  draw  back,  questioning  whether  the  Lord 
will  now  receive  him ;  he  fears  no  rebuke  ;  he  does 
not  scrutinise  his  spiritual  condition,  nor  ask  whether 
his  faith  is  sufficiently  spiritual.  He  cannot  either  go 
back  upon  his  past  conduct,  or  analyse  his  present 
feelings,  or  spend  one  thought  of  any  kind  upon  him- 
self. The  scrupulous,  sceptical  man  is  all  devoutness 
and  worship ;  the  thousand  objections  are  swept  from 
his  mind ;  and  all  by  the  mere  presence  of  Christ. 
He  is  rapt  in  this  one  object ;  mind  and  soul  are  filled 
with  the  regained  Lord ;  he  forgets  himself;  the  passion 
of  joy  with  which  he  regains  in  a  transfigured  form  his 
lost  Leader  absorbs  him  quite :  "he  had  lost  a  possible 
king  of  the  Jews ;  he  finds  his  Lord  and  his  God." 
There   can    be    no   question    here   about   himself,    his 


378  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

prospects,  his  interests.  He  can  but  utter  his  surprise, 
his  joy,  and  his  worship  in  the  cry,  "  My  Lord  and 
my  God." 

On  such  a  man  even  the  Lord's  benediction  were 
useless.  This  is  the  highest,  happiest,  rarest  state 
of  the  human  soul.  When  a  man  has  been  carried 
out  of  himself  by  the  clear  vision  of  Christ's  worth; 
when  his  mind  and  heart  are  filled  with  the  supreme 
excellence  of  Christ ;  when  in  His  presence  he  feels 
he  can  but  worship,  bowing  in  his  soul  before  actually 
achieved  human  perfection  rooted  in  and  expressing 
the  true  Divine  glory  of  love  ineffable ;  when  face  to 
face,  soul  to  soul,  with  the  highest  and  most  affecting 
known  goodness,  conscious  that  he  now  in  this  very 
moment  stands  within  touch  of  the  Supreme,  that  he 
has  found  and  need  never  more  lose  perfect  love, 
perfect  goodness,  perfect  power, — when  a  man  is  trans- 
ported by  such  a  recognition  of  Christ,  this  is  the  true 
ecstasy,  this  is  man's  ultimate  blessedness. 

And  this  blessedness  is  competent  not  only  to  those 
who  saw  with  the  bodily  eye,  but  much  more  to  those 
who  have  not  seen  and  yet  have  believed.  Why  do 
we  rob  ourselves  of  it,  and  live  as  if  it  were  not  so — 
as  if  such  certitude  and  the  joy  that  accompanies  it 
had  passed  from  earth  and  were  no  more  possible  ? 
We  cannot  apply  Thomas'  test,  but  we  can  test  his 
test ;  or,  like  him,  we  can  forego  it,  and  rest  on  wider, 
deeper  evidence.  Was  he  right  in  so  eagerly  con- 
fessing his  belief?  And  are  we  right  to  hesitate,  to 
doubt,  to  despond  ?  Should  we  have  counted  it 
strange  if,  when  the  Lord  addressed  Thomas,  he  had 
sullenly  shrunk  back  among  the  rest,  or  merely  given 
a  verbal  assent  to  Christ's  identity,  showing  no  sign 
of  joy  ?     And  are  we  to  accept  the  signs  He  gives  us 


XX.  19-29.]  THOMAS'   TEST.  379 

of  His  presence  as  if  it  made  little  difference  to  us 
and  did  not  lift  us  into  heaven  ?  Have  we  so  little 
sense  of  spiritual  things  that  we  cannot  believe  in  the 
life  of  Him  round  whom  the  whole  fortunes  of  our  race 
revolve  ?  Do  we  not  know  the  power  of  Christ's  resur- 
rection as  Thomas  could  not  possibly  know  it  ?  Do 
we  not  see  as  he  could  not  see  the  boundless  spiritual 
efficacy  and  results  of  that  risen  life  ?  Do  we  not  see 
the  full  bearing  of  that  great  manifestation  of  God's 
nearness  more  clearly  ?  Do  we  not  feel  how  impossible 
it  was  that  such  an  one  as  Christ  should  be  holden  of 
death,  that  the  supremacy  in  human  affairs  which  He 
achieved  by  absolute  love  and  absolute  holiness  should 
be  proved  inferior  to  a  physical  law,  and  should  be 
interrupted  in  its  efficacious  exercise  by  a  physical 
fact  ?  If  Thomas  was  constrained  to  acknowledge 
Christ  as  his  Lord  and  his  God,  much  more  may  we 
do  so.  By  the  nature  of  the  case  our  conviction, 
implying  as  it  does  some  apprehension  of  spiritual 
things,  must  be  more  slowly  wrought.  Even  if  at  last 
the  full  conviction  that  human  life  is  a  joy  because 
Christ  is  with  us  in  it,  leading  us  to  eternal  partnership 
with  Himself, — even  if  this  conviction  flash  suddenly 
through  the  spirit,  the  material  for  it  must  have  been 
long  accumulating.  Even  if  at  last  we  awake  to  a  sense 
of  the  present  glory  of  Christ  with  the  suddenness  of 
Thomas,  yet  in  any  case  this  must  be  the  result  of 
purified  spiritual  affinities  and  leanings.  But  on  this 
very  account  is  the  conviction  more  indissolubly  inter- 
twined with  all  that  we  truly  are,  forming  an  essential 
and  necessary  part  of  our  inward  growth,  and  leading 
each  of  us  to  respond  with  a  cordial  amen  to  the  bene- 
diction of  our  Lord,  "  Blessed  are  they  that  have  not 
seen  and  yet  have  believed." 


XXIV. 

APPEARANCE  AT  SEA    OF  GALILEE. 


381 


"  After  these  things  Jesus  manifested  Himself  again  to  the  disciples 
at  the  Sea  of  Tiberias ;  and  He  manifested  Himself  on  this  wise. 
There  were  together  Simon  Peter,  and  Thomas  called  Didymus,  and 
Nathanael  of  Cana  in  Galilee,  and  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  and  two  other 
of  His  disciples.  Simon  Peter  saith  unto  them,  I  go  a-fishing.  They 
say  unto  him,  We  also  come  with  thee.  They  went  forth,  and 
entered  into  the  boat ;  and  that  night  they  took  nothing.  But  when 
day  was  now  breaking,  Jesus  stood  on  the  beach  :  howbeit  the  disciples 
knew  not  that  it  was  Jesus.  Jesus  therefore  saith  unto  them,  Children, 
have  ye  aught  to  eat  ?  They  answered  Him,  No.  And  He  said  unto 
them,  Cast  the  net  on  the  right  side  of  the  boat,  and  ye  shall  find. 
They  cast  therefore,  and  now  they  were  not  able  to  draw  it  for  the 
multitude  of  fishes.  That  disciple  therefore  whom  Jesus  loved  saith 
unto  Peter,  It  is  the  Lord.  So  when  Simon  Peter  heard  that  it  was 
the  Lord,  he  girt  his  coat  about  him  (for  he  was  naked),  and  cast  him- 
self into  the  sea.  But  the  other  disciples  came  in  the  little  boat  (for 
they  were  not  far  from  the  land,  but  about  two  hundred  cubits  off), 
dragging  the  net  full  of  fishes.  So  when  they  got  out  upon  the  land, 
they  see  a  fire  of  coals  there,  and  fish  laid  thereon,  and  bread.  Jesus 
saith  unto  them,  Bring  of  the  fish  which  ye  have  now  taken.  Simon 
Peter  therefore  went  up,  and  drew  the  net  to  land,  full  of  great  fishes, 
a  hundred  and  fifty  and  three  :  and  for  all  there  were  so  many,  the  net 
was  not  rent.  Jesus  saith  unto  them.  Come  and  break  your  fast.  And 
none  of  the  disciples  durst  inquire  of  Him,  Who  art  Thou  ?  knowing 
that  it  was  the  Lord.  Jesus  cometh,  and  taketh  the  bread,  and  giveth 
them,  and  the  fish  likewise.  This  is  now  the  third  time  that  Jesus  was 
manifested  to  the  disciples,  after  that  He  was  risen  from  the  dead." — 
John  xxi.  1-14. 


382 


XXIV. 

APPEARANCE  AT  SEA    OF  GALILEE 

THE  removal  of  the  doubts  of  Thomas  restored  the 
Eleven*  to  unity  of  faith,  and  fitted  them  to  be 
witnesses  of  the  Lord's  resurrection.  And  the  Gospel 
might  naturally  have  closed  at  this  point,  as  indeed 
the  last  verses  of  the  twentieth  chapter  suggest  that 
the  writer  himself  felt  that  his  task  was  done.  But  as 
throughout  his  Gospel  he  had  followed  the  plan  of 
adducing  such  of  Christ's  miracles  as  seemed  to  throw 
a  strong  light  on  His  spiritual  power,  he  could  not  well 
close  without  mentioning  the  last  miracle  of  all,  and 
which  seemed  to  have  only  a  didactic  purpose.  Besides, 
there  was  another  reason  for  John  adding  this  chapter. 
He  was  writing  at  the  very  close  of  the  century.  So 
long  had  he  survived  the  unparalleled  events  he  narrates 
that  an  impression  had  gone  abroad  that  he  would 
never  die.  It  was  even  rumoured  that  our  Lord  had 
foretold  that  the  beloved  disciple  should  tarry  on  earth 
till  He  Himself  should  return.  John  takes  the  oppor- 
tunity of  relating  what  the  Lord  had  really  said,  as 
well  as  of  recounting  the  all-important  event  out  of 
which  the  misreported  conversation  had  arisen. 

When  the  disciples  had  spent  the  Passover  week 
at  Jerusalem,  they  naturally  returned  to  their  homes 
in  Galilee.     The  house  of  the  old  fisherman  Zebedee 

383 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 


was  probably  their  rendezvous.  We  need  not  listen  to 
their  talk  as  they  relate  what  had  passed  in  Jerusalem, 
in  order  to  see  that  they  are  sensible  of  the  peculiarity 
of  their  situation  and  are  in  a  state  of  suspense. 

They  are  back  among  the  familiar  scenes,  the  boats 
are  lying  on  the  beach,  their  old  companions  are  sitting 
about  mending  their  nets  as  they  themselves  had  been 
doing  a  year  or  two  before  when  summoned  by  Jesus 
to  follow  Him  on  the  moment.  But  though  old  associa- 
tions are  thus  laying  hold  of  them  again,  there  is  evi- 
dence that  new  influences  are  also  at  work  ;  for  with 
the  fishermen  are  found  Nathanael  and  others  who 
were  there,  not  for  the  sake  of  old  associations,  but 
of  the  new  and  common  interest  they  had  in  Christ. 
The  seven  men  have  kept  together  ;  they  participate 
in  an  experience  of  which  their  fellow-townsmen  know 
nothing ;  but  they  must  live.  Hints  have  been  thrown 
out  that  seven  strong  men  must  not  depend  on  other 
arms  than  their  own  for  a  livelihood.  And  as  they 
stand  together  that  evening  and  watch  boat  after  boat 
push  off,  the  women  wishing  their  husbands  and  sons 
good-speed,  the  men  cheerily  responding  and  busily 
getting  their  tackle  in  trim,  with  a  look  of  pity  at  the 
group  of  disciples,  Peter  can  stand  it  no  longer,  but 
makes  for  his  own  or  some  unoccupied  boat  with  the 
words,  "  I  go  a-fishing."  The  rest  were  only  needing 
such  an  invitation.  The  whole  charm  and  zest  of  the  old 
life  rushes  back  upon  them,  each  takes  his  own  accus- 
tomed place  in  the  boat,  each  hand  finds  itself  once 
more  at  home  at  the  long-suspended  task,  and  with  an 
ease  that  surprises  themselves  they  fall  back  into  the 
old  routine. 

And  as  we  watch  their  six  oars  flashing  in  the  setting 
sun,  and  Peter  steering  them  to  the   familiar  fishing 


xxi.  I-I4.]      APPEARANCE  AT  SEA    OF  GALILEE.  385 

ground,  we  cannot  but  reflect  in  how  precarious  a 
position  the  whole  future  of  the  world  is.  That  boat 
carries  the  earthly  hope  of  the  Church ;  and  as  we 
weigh  the  feelings  of  the  men  that  are  in  it,  what  we 
see  chiefly  is,  how  easily  the  whole  of  Christianity 
might  here  have  broken  short  off,  and  never  have  been 
heard  of,  supposing  it  to  have  depended  for  its  pro- 
pagation solely  on  the  disciples.  Here  they  were,  not 
knowing  what  had  become  of  Jesus,  without  any  plan 
for  preserving  His  name  among  men,  open  to  any  im- 
pulse or  influence,  unable  to  resist  the  smell  of  the  fish- 
ing boats  and  the  freshness  of  the  evening  breeze,  and 
submitting  themselves  to  be  guided  by  such  influences 
as  these,  content  apparently  to  fall  back  into  their  old 
ways  and  obscure  village  Hfe,  as  if  the  last  three  years 
were  a  dream,  or  were  like  a  voyage  to  foreign  parts, 
which  they  might  think  of  afterwards,  but  were  not  to 
repeat.  All  the  facts  they  were  to  use  for  the  conver- 
sion of  the  world  were  already  in  their  possession ;  the 
death  of  Christ  and  His  resurrection  were  not  a  fort- 
night old ;  but  as  yet  they  had  no  inward  impulse  to 
proclaim  the  truth ;  there  was  no  Holy  Ghost  power- 
fully impelling  and  possessing  them  ;  they  were  not 
endued  with  power  from  on  high.  One  thing  only  they 
seemed  to  be  decided  and  agreed  about — that  they 
must  live  ;  and  therefore  they  go  a-fishing. 

But  apparently  they  were  not  destined  to  find  even 
this  so  easy  as  they  expected.  There  was  One  watch- 
ing that  boat,  following  it  through  the  night  as  they 
tried  place  after  place,  and  He  was  resolved  that  they 
should  not  be  filled  with  false  ideas  about  the  satis- 
factoriness  of  their  old  cafling.  All  night  they  toiled, 
but  caught  nothing.  Every  old  device  was  tried ;  the 
fancies  of  each  particular  kind  of  fish  were  humoured, 

VOL.  II.  25 


386  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

but  in  vain.  Each  time  the  net  was  drawn  up,  every 
hand  knew  before  it  appeared  that  it  was  empty. 
Weary  with  the  fruitless  toil,  and  when  the  best  part 
of  the  night  was  gone,  they  made  for  a  secluded  part  of 
the  shore,  not  wishing  to  land  from  their  first  attempt 
empty  in  presence  of  the  other  fishermen.  But  when 
about  one  hundred  yards  from  the  shore  a  voice  hails 
them  with  the  words,  "  Children  " — or,  as  we  would  say, 
"Lads" — "have  you  taken  any  fish?"  It  has  been 
supposed  that  our  Lord  asked  this  question  in  the 
character  of  a  trader  who  had  been  watching  for  the 
return  of  the  boats  that  he  might  buy,  or  that  it  was 
with  the  natural  interest  every  one  takes  in  the  success 
of  a  person  that  is  fishing,  so  that  we  can  scarcely  pass 
without  asking  what  take  they  have  had.  The  ques- 
tion was  asked  for  the  purpose  of  arresting  the  boat  at 
a  sufficient  distance  from  the  shore  to  make  another 
cast  of  the  net  possible.  It  has  this  effect ;  the  rowers 
turned  round  to  see  who  is  calling  them,  and  at  the 
same  time  tell  Him  they  have  no  fish.  The  Stranger 
then  says,  "  Cast  the  net  on  the  right  side  of  the  ship, 
and  ye  shall  find  "  ;  and  they  do  so,  not  thinking  of 
a  miracle,  but  supposing  that  before  any  man  would 
give  them  such  express  instructions  he  must  have  had 
some  good  reason  for  believing  there  were  fish  there. 
But  when  they  found  that  the  net  was  at  once  abso- 
lutely loaded  with  fish,  so  that  they  could  not  draw  it 
into  the  boat,  John  looks  again  at  the  Stranger,  and 
whispers  to  Peter,  "It  is  the  Lord."  This  was  no 
sooner  heard  by  Peter  than  he  snatched  up  and  threw 
over  him  his  upper  garment,  and  throwing  himself  into 
the  water  swam  or  waded  ashore. 

In  every  trifling  act  character  betrays  itself.     It  is 
John  who  is  first  to  recognise  Jesus ;  it  is  Peter  who 


xxi.i-i4.]      APPEARANCE  AT  SEA    OF  GALILEE.  387 

casts  himself  into  the  sea,  just  as  he  had  done  once 
before  on  that  same  lake,  and  as  he  had  been  first  to 
enter  the  sepulchre  on  the  morning  of  the  Resurrection. 
John  recognises  the  Lord,  not  because  he  had  better 
eyesight  than  the  rest,  nor  because  he  had  a  better 
position  in  the  boat,  nor  because  while  the  rest  were 
busied  with  the  net  he  was  occupied  with  the  figure  on 
the  beach,  but  because  his  spirit  had  a  quicker  and 
profounder  apprehension  of  spiritual  things,  and  because 
in  this  sudden  turn  of  their  fortune  he  recognised  the 
same  hand  which  had  filled  their  nets  once  before  and 
had  fed  thousands  with  one  or  two  little  fishes. 

The  reason  of  Peter's  impetuousness  on  this  occasion 
may  partly  have  been  that  their  fishing  vessel  was  now 
as  near  the  land  as  they  could  get  it,  and  that  he  was 
unwilling  to  wait  till  they  should  get  the  small  boat 
unfastened.  The  rest,  we  read,  came  ashore,  not  in  the 
large  vessel  in  which  they  had  spent  the  night,  but  in 
the  little  boat  they  carried  with  them,  the  reason  being 
added,  "  for  they  were  not  far  from  land  " — that  is  to 
say,  not  far  enough  to  use  the  larger  vessel  any  longer. 
Peter,  therefore,  ran  no  risk  of  drowning.  But  his 
action  reveals  the  eagerness  of  love.  No  sooner  has  he 
only  heard  from  another  that  his  Lord  is  near,  than  the 
fish  for  which  he  had  been  watching  and  waiting  all 
night  are  forgotten,  and  for  him,  the  master  of  the 
vessel,  the  net  and  all  its  contents  might  have  sunk  to 
the  bottom  of  the  lake.  What  this  action  of  Peter 
suggested  to  the  Lord  is  apparent  from  the  question 
which  a  few  minutes  later  He  put  to  him :  "  Lovest 
thou  Me  more  than  these  ?  " 

Neither  would  Peter  have  sustained  any  serious  loss 
even  though  his  nets  had  been  carried  away,  for  when 
he  reaches  the  shore  he  finds  that  the  Lord  was  to  be 


388  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

their  host,  not  their  guest.  A  fire  is  ready  lit,  fish  laid 
on  it  and  bread  baking.  He  who  could  so  fill  their  nets 
could  also  provide  for  His  own  wants.  But  there  was 
to  be  no  needless  multiplication  of  miracles ;  the  fish 
already  on  the  fire  was  not  to  be  multiplied  in  their 
hands  when  plenty  were  lying  in  the  net.  He  directs 
them,  therefore,  to  bring  of  the  fish  they  had  caught. 
They  go  to  the  net,  and  mechanically,  in  their  old 
fashion,  count  the  fish  they  had  taken,  one  hundred 
and  fifty  and  three  ;  and  John,  with  a  fisher's  memory 
can  tell  you,  sixty  years  after,  the  precise  number. 
From  these  miraculously  provided  fish  they  break  their 
long  fast. 

The  significance  of  this  incident  has  perhaps  been 
somewhat  lost  by  looking  at  it  too  exclusively  as 
symbolical.  No  doubt  it  was  so ;  but  it  carried  in  the 
first  place  a  most  important  lesson  in  its  bare,  literal 
facts.  We  have  already  noticed  the  precarious  position 
in  which  the  Church  at  this  time  was.  And  it  will  be 
useful  to  us  in  many  ways  to  endeavour  to  rid  our  mind 
of  all  fancies  about  the  beginning  of  the  Christian 
Church,  and  look  at  the  simple,  unvarnished  facts  here 
presented  to  our  view.  And  the  plain  and  significant 
circumstance  which  first  invites  our  attention  is,  that 
the  nucleus  of  the  Church,  the  men  on  whom  the 
faith  of  Christ  depended  for  its  propagation,  were 
fishermen. 

This  was  not  merely  the  picturesque  drapery  assumed 
by  men  of  abihty  so  great  and  character  so  commanding 
that  all  positions  in  life  were  alike  to  them.  Let  us 
recall  to  memory  the  group  of  men  we  have  seen 
standing  at  a  corner  in  a  fishing  village  or  with  whom 
we  have  spent  a  night  at  sea  fishing,  and  whose  talk 
has  been  at  the  best  old  stories  of  their  craft  or  legends 


xxi.  1-14.]      APPEARANCE  AT  SEA    OF  GALILEE.         389 

of  the  water.  Such  men  were  the  Apostles.  They 
were  men  who  were  not  at  home  in  cities,  who  simply 
could  not  understand  the  current  philosophies,  who  did 
not  so  much  as  know  the  names  of  the  great  contem- 
porary writers  of  the  Roman  world,  who  took  only  so 
much  interest  in  politics  as  every  Jew  in  those  troublous 
times  was  forced  to  take — men  who  were  at  home  only 
on  their  own  lake,  in  their  fishing  boat,  and  who  could 
quite  contentedly,  even  after  all  they  had  recently  gone 
through,  have  returned  to  their  old  occupation  for  life. 
They  were  in  point  of  fact  now  returning  to  their  old 
life — returning  to  it  partly  because  they  had  no  impulse 
to  publish  what  they  knew,  and  partly  because,  even 
though  they  had,  they  must  live,  and  did  not  know  how 
they  should  be  supported  but  by  fishing. 

And  this  is  the  reason  of  this  miracle;  this  is  the 
reason  why  our  Lord  so  pointedly  convinced  them  that 
without  Him  they  could  not  make  a  livelihood  :  that  they 
might  fish  all  the  night  through  and  resort  to  every 
device  their  experience  could  contrive  and  yet  could  catch 
nothing,  but  that  He  could  give  them  sustenance  as 
He  pleased.  If  any  one  thinks  that  this  is  a  secular, 
shallow  way  of  looking  at  the  miracle,  let  him  ask  what 
it  is  that  chiefly  keeps  men  from  serving  God  as  they 
think  they  should,  what  it  is  that  induces  men  to  live 
so  much  for  the  world  and  so  little  for  God,  what  it  is 
that  prevents  them  from  following  out  what  conscience 
whispers  is  the  right  course.  Is  it  not  mainly  the 
feeling  that  by  doing  God's  will  we  ourselves  are  likely 
to  be  not  so  well  off,  not  so  sufficiently  provided  for. 
Above  all  things,  therefore,  both  we  and  the  Apostles 
need  to  be  convinced  that  our  Lord,  who  asks  us  to 
follow  Him,  is  much  better  able  to  provide  for  us 
than  we  ourselves  are.     They  had  the  same  transition 


390  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

to  make  as  every  man  among  ourselves  has  to  make ; 
we  and  they  aUke  have  to  pass  from  the  natural  feeling 
that  we  depend  on  our  own  energy  and  skill  for  our 
support  to  the  knowledge  that  we  depend  on  God.  We 
have  to  pass  from  the  life  of  nature  and  sense  to  the 
life  of  faith.  We  have  to  come  to  know  and  believe 
that  the  fundamental  thing  is  God,  that  it  is  He  who 
can  support  us  when  nature  fails,  and  not  that  we  must 
betake  ourselves  to  nature  at  many  points  where  God 
fails — that  we  live,  not  by  bread  alone,  but  by  every 
word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God,  and  are 
much  safer  in  doing  His  bidding  than  in  strugghng 
anxiously  to  make  a  livelihood. 

And  if  we  carefully  read  our  own  experience,  might 
we  not  see,  as  clearly  as  the  Apostles  that  morning 
saw,  the  utter  futility  of  our  own  schemes  for  bettering 
ourselves  in  the  world  ?  Is  it  not  the  simple  fact  that 
we  also  have  toiled  through  every  watch  of  the  night, 
have  borne  fatigue  and  deprivation,  have  abandoned 
the  luxuries  of  life  and  given  ourselves  to  endure  hard- 
ness, have  tried  contrivance  after  contrivance  to  win 
our  cherished  project,  and  all  in  vain  ?  Our  net  is 
empty  and  light  at  the  rising  sun  as  it  was  at  the 
setting.  Have  we  not  again  and  again  found  that 
when  every  boat  round  was  being  filled  we  drew 
nothing  but  disappointment  ?  Have  we  not  many 
times  come  back  empty-handed  to  our  starting-place  ? 
But  no  matter  how  much  we  have  thus  lost  or  missed 
every  man  will  tell  you  it  is  much  better  so  than  if  he 
had  succeeded,  if  only  his  own  ill-success  has  induced 
him  to  trust  Christ,  if  only  it  has  taught  him  really 
what  he  used  with  everybody  else  verbally  to  say, — that 
in  that  Person  dimly  discerned  through  the  light  that 
begins  to  glimmer  round  our  disappointments  there  is 


xxi.  I-I4.]     APPEARANCE  AT  SEA   OF  GALILEE.         391 

all  power  in  heaven  and  on  earth — power  to  give  us 
what  we  have  been  trying  to  win,  power  to  give  us 
greater  happiness  without  it. 

But  this  being  so,  it  being  the  case  that  our  Lord 
came  this  second  time  and  called  them  away  from  their 
occupations  to  follow  Him,  and  showed  them  how 
amply  He  could  support  them,  they  could  not  but 
remember  how  He  had  once  before  in  very  similar 
circumstances  summoned  them  to  leave  their  occupa- 
tion as  fishermen  and  to  become  fishers  of  men.  They 
could  not  but  interpret  the  present  by  the  former 
miracle,  and  read  in  it  a  renewed  summons  to  the  work 
of  catching  men,  and  a  renewed  assurance  that  in  that 
work  they  should  not  draw  empty  nets.  Most  suitably, 
then,  does  this  miracle  stand  alone,  the  only  one 
wrought  after  the  Resurrection,  and  most  suitably  does 
it  stand  last,  giving  the  Apostles  a  symbol  which  should 
continually  reanimate  them  to  their  laborious  work. 
Their  work  of  preaching  was  well  symbolised  by 
sowing;  they  passed  rapidly  through  the  field  of  the 
world,  at  every  step  scattering  broadcast  the  words  of 
everlasting  life,  not  examining  minutely  the  hearts  into 
which  these  words  might  fall,  not  knowing  where  they 
might  find  prepared  soil  and  where  they  might  find 
inhospitable  rock,  but  assured  that  after  a  time  whoso 
followed  in  their  track  should  see  the  fruit  of  their 
words.  Not  less  significant  is  the  figure  of  the  net ; 
they  let  down  the  net  of  their  good  tidings,  not  seeing 
what  persons  were  really  enclosed  in  it,  but  trusting 
that  He  who  had  said,  "Cast  your  net  on  the  right 
side  of  the  ship,"  knew  what  souls  it  would  fall  over. 
By  this  miracle  He  gave  the  Apostles  to  understand 
that  not  only  when  with  them  in  the  flesh  could  He 
give  them  success.    Even  now  after  His  resurrection  and 


392  >    THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

when  they  did  not  recognise  Him  on  the  shore  He 
blessed  their  labour,  that  they  might  even  when  they 
did  not  see  Him  believe  in  His  nearness  and  in  His 
power  most  effectually  to  give  them  success. 

This  is  the  miracle  which  has  again  and  again 
restored  the  drooping  faith  and  discouraged  spirit  of  all 
Christ's  followers  who  endeavour  to  bring  men  under 
His  influence,  or  in  any  way  to  spread  out  this  in- 
fluence over  a  wider  surface.  Again  and  again  their 
hope  is  disappointed  and  their  labour  vain ;  the  persons 
they  wish  to  influence  glide  out  from  below  the  net, 
and  it  is  drawn  empty  ;  new  opportunities  are  watched 
for,  and  new  opportunities  arrive  and  are  used,  but 
with  the  same  result;  the  patient  doggedness  of  the 
fisherman  long  used  to  turns  of  ill-success  is  repro- 
duced in  the  persevering  efforts  of  parental  love  or 
friendly  anxiety  for  the  good  of  others,  but  often  the 
utmost  patience  is  at  last  worn  out,  the  nets  are  piled 
away,  and  the  gloom  of  disappointment  settles  on  the 
mind.  Yet  this  apparently  is  the  very  hour  which  the 
Lord  often  chooses  to  give  the  long-sought-for  success ; 
in  the  dawn,  when  already  the  fish  might  be  supposed 
to  see  the  net  and  more  vigilantly  to  elude  it,  our  last 
and  almost  careless  effort  is  made,  and  we  achieve  a 
substantial,  countable  success — a  success  not  doubtful, 
but  which  we  could  accurately  detail  to  others,  which 
makes  a  mark  in  the  memory  like  the  hundred  and  fifty 
and  three  of  these  fishers,  and  which  were  we  to  relate 
to  others  they  must  acknowledge  that  the  whole  weary 
night  of  toil  is  amply  repaid.  And  it  is  then  a  man 
recognises  who  it  is  that  has  directed  his  labour — it  is 
then  he  for  the  moment  forgets  even  the  success  in  the 
more  gladdening  knowledge  that  such  a  success  could 
only  have  been  given  by  One,  and  that  it  is  the  Lord 


xxi.  1-14.]      APPEARANCE  AT  SEA   OF  GALILEE.  393 

who  has  been  watching  his  disappointments,  and  at  last 
turning  them  into  triumph. 

The  EvangeHst  adds,  "  None  of  the  disciples  durst 
ask  Him,  Who  art  Thou  ?  knowing  that  it  was  the 
Lord  " — a  remark  which  unquestionably  implies  that 
there  was  some  ground  for  the  question.  Who  art 
Thou  ?  They  knew  it  was  the  Lord  from  the  miracle 
He  had  wrought  and  from  His  manner  of  speaking  and 
acting ;  but  yet  there  was  in  His  appearance  something 
strange,  something  which,  had  it  not  also  inspired  them 
with  awe,  would  have  prompted  the  question,  Who  art 
Thou  ?  The  question  was  always  on  their  lips,  as  they 
found  afterwards  by  comparing  notes  with  one  another, 
but  none  of  them  durst  put  it.  There  was  this  time 
no  certification  of  His  identity  further  than  the  aid  He 
had  given,  no  showing  of  His  hands  and  feet.  It  was, 
that  is  to  say,  by  faith  now  they  must  know  Him,  not 
by  bodily  eyesight ;  if  they  wished  to  deny  Him,  there 
was  room  for  doing  so,  room  for  questioning  who  He 
was.  This  was  in  the  most  delicate  correspondence 
with  the  whole  incident.  The  miracle  was  wrought  as 
the  foundation  and  encouraging  symbol  of  their  whole 
vocation  as  fishers  of  men  during  His  bodily  absence  ; 
it  was  wrought  in  order  to  encourage  them  to  lean  on 
One  whom  they  could  not  see,  whom  they  could  at  best 
dimly  descry  on  another  element  from  themselves,  and 
whom  they  could  not  recognise  as  their  Lord  apart 
from  the  wonderful  aid  He  gave  them ;  and  accordingly 
even  when  they  come  ashore  there  is  something  mys- 
terious and  strange  about  His  appearance,  something 
that  baffles  eyesight,  something  that  would  no  longer 
have  satisfied  a  Thomas,  something  therefore  which  is 
the  fit  preparation  for  a  state  in  which  they  were  to 
live  altogether  by  faith  and  not  at  all  by  sight.     This 


394  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

is  the  state  in  which  we  now  live.  He  who  beheves 
will  know  that  his  Lord  is  near  him ;  he  who  refuses 
to  believe  will  be  able  to  deny  His  nearness.  It  is 
faith  then  that  we  need  :  we  need  to  know  our  Lord,  to 
understand  His  purposes  and  His  mode  of  fulfilling  them, 
so  that  we  may  not  need  the  evidence  of  eyesight  to 
say  where  He  is  working  and  where  He  is  not.  If 
we  are  to  be  His  followers,  if  we  are  to  recognise  that 
He  has  made  a  new  life  for  us  and  all  men,  if  we  are 
to  recognise  that  He  has  begun  and  is  now  carrying 
forward  a  great  cause  in  this  world,  and  if  we  see  that, 
let  our  lives  deny  it  as  they  may,  there  is  nothing  else 
worth  living  for  than  this  cause,  and  if  we  are  seeking 
to  help  it,  then  let  us  confirm  our  faith  by  this  miracle 
and  believe  that  our  Lord,  who  has  all  power  in  heaven 
and  on  earth,  is  but  beyond  eyesight,  has  a  perfectly 
distinct  view  of  all  we  are  doing  and  knows  when  to 
give  us  the  success  we  seek. 

This,  then,  explains  why  it  was  that  our  Lord 
appeared  only  to  His  friends  after  His  resurrection. 
It  might  have  been  expected  that  on  His  rising  from 
the  dead  He  would  have  shown  Himself  as  openly  as 
before  He  suffered,  and  would  specially  have  shown 
Himself  to  those  who  had  crucified  Him  ;  but  this  was 
not  the  case.  The  Apostles  themselves  were  struck 
with  this  circumstance,  for  in  one  of  his  earliest  dis- 
courses Peter  remarks  that  He  showed  Himself  "  not 
to  all  the  people,  but  unto  witnesses  chosen  before  of 
God,  even  to  us  who  did  eat  and  drink  with  Him  after 
He  rose  from  the  dead."  And  it  is  obvious  from  the 
incident  before  us  and  from  the  fact  that  when  our 
Lord  showed  Himself  to  five  hundred  disciples  at  once 
in  Galilee,  probably  a  day  or  two  after  this,  some  even 
of  them  doubted — it  is  obvious  from  this  that  no  good 


XX.I-I4.]      APPEARANCE  AT  SEA    OF  GALILEE.  395 

or  permanent  effect  could  have  been  produced  by  His 
appearing  to  all  and  sundry.  It  might  have  served  as 
a  momentary  triumph,  but  even  this  is  doubtful ;  for 
plenty  would  have  been  found  to  explain  away  the 
miracle  or  to  maintain  it  was  a  deception,  and  that  He 
who  appeared  was  not  the  same  as  He  who  died.  Or 
even  supposing  the  miracle  had  been  admitted,  why 
was  this  miracle  to  produce  any  more  profound  spiritual 
effect  in  hearts  unprepared  than  the  former  miracles 
had  produced.  It  was  not  by  any  such  sudden  process 
men  could  become  Christians  and  faithful  witnesses  of 
Christ's  resurrection.  "  Men  are  not  easily  wrought 
upon  to  be  faithful  advocates  of  any  cause."  They 
advocate  causes  to  which  they  are  by  nature  attached, 
or  else  they  become  alive  to  the  merit  of  a  cause  only 
by  gradual  conviction  and  by  deeply  impressed  and 
often  repeated  instruction.  To  such  a  process  the 
Apostles  were  submitted  ;  and  even  after  this  long 
instruction  their  fidelity  to  Christ  was  tested  by  a  trial 
which  shook  to  the  foundations  their  whole  character, 
which  threw  out  one  of  their  number  for  ever,  and 
which  revealed  the  weaknesses  of  others. 

In  other  words,  they  needed  to  be  able  to  certify 
Christ's  spiritual  identity  as  well  as  His  physical 
sameness.  They  were  so  to  know  Him  and  so  to 
sympathise  with  His  character  that  they  might  be  able 
after  the  Resurrection  to  recognise  Him  by  the  con- 
tinuity of  that  character  and  the  identity  of  purpose  He 
maintained.  They  were  by  daily  intercourse  with  Him 
to  be  gradually  led  to  dependence  upon  Him,  and  to 
the  strongest  attachment  to  His  person  ;  so  that  when 
they  became  witnesses  to  Him  they  might  not  only  be 
able  to  say,  "Jesus  whom  you  crucified  rose  again,"  but 
might  be  able  to  illustrate  His  character  by  their  own. 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 


to  represent  the  beauty  of  Mis  holiness  by  simply 
telling  what  they  had  seen  Him  do  and  heard  Him  say, 
and  to  give  convincing  evidence  in  their  own  persons 
and  lives  that  He  whom  they  loved  on  earth  lives  and 
rules  now  in  heaven. 

And  what  we  need  now  and  always  is,  not  men  who 
can  witness  to  the  fact  of  resurrection,  but  who  can 
bear  in  upon  our  spirits  the  impression  that  there  is 
a  risen  Lord  and  a  risen  life  through  dependence  on 
Him. 


xxy 

RESTORATION  OF  PETER. 


397 


"So  when  they  had  broken  their  fast,  Jesus  saith  to  Simon  Peter, 
Simon,  son  of  John,  lovest  thou  Me  more  than  these?  He  saith  unto 
Him,  Yea,  Lord ;  Thou  knowest  that  I  love  Thee.  He  saith  unto 
him,  Feed  My  lambs.  He  saith  to  him  again  a  second  time,  Simon, 
son  of  John,  lovest  thou  Me?  He  saith  unto  Him,  Yea,  Lord  ;  Thou 
knowest  that  I  love  Thee.  He  saith  unto  him.  Tend  My  sheep.  He 
saith  unto  him  the  third  time,  Simon,  son  of  John,  lovest  thou  Me? 
Peter  was  grieved  because  He  said  unto  him  the  third  time,  Lovest 
thou  Me?  And  he  said  unto  Him,  Lord,  Thou  knowest  all  things; 
Thou  knowest  that  I  love  Thee.  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  Feed  My 
sheep." — ^JoHN  xxi.  15-17. 


3955 


XXV. 

RESTORATION  OF  PETER. 

TO  the  interpretation  of  this  dialogue  between  the 
Lord  and  Peter  we  must  bring  a  remembrance 
of  the  immediately  preceding  incident.  The  evening 
before  had  found  several  of  those  who  had  followed 
Jesus  standing  among  the  boats  that  lay  by  the  sea 
of  Galilee.  Boat  after  boat  put  out  from  shore  ;  and  as 
the  familiar  sights  and  smells  and  sounds  awakened 
slumbering  instincts  and  stirred  old  associations,  Peter 
with  characteristic  restlessness  and  independence  turned 
away  to  where  his  own  old  boat  lay,  saying,  "  I  go 
a-fishing."  The  rest  only  needed  the  example.  And 
as  we  watch  each  man  taking  his  old  place  at  the  oar 
or  getting  ready  the  nets,  we  recognise  how  slight  a 
hold  the  Apostolic  call  had  taken  of  these  men,  and 
h~cw  ready  they  were  to  tall  back  to  their  old  life. 
They  lack  sutticient  mward  impulse  to  go  and  proclaim 
Christ  to  men  ;  they  have  no  plans;  the  one  inevitable 


thing~is  that  they  must  earn  a  livelihood.  And  had 
they  that  night  succeeded  as  of  old  in  their  fishing, 
the  charm  of  the  old  life  might  have  been  too  strong 
for  them.  But,  like  many  other  men,  their  failure 
in  accomplishing  their  own  purpose  prepared  them  to 
discern  and  to  fulfil  the  Divine  purpose,  and  from 
catching  fish  worth  so  much  a  pound  they  became  the 
most  influential  factors  in  this  world's  history.     For 

399 


40O  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

!the  Lord  had  need  of  them,  and  again  called  them  to 
labour  for  Him,  showing  them  how  easily  He  could 
maintain  them  in  life  and  how  full  their  nets  would  be 
when  cast  under  His  direction. 

When  the  Lord  made  Himself  known  by  His  miracu- 
lous action  while  yet  the  disciples  were  too  far  off  to 
see  His  features,  Peter  on  the  moment  forgot  the  fish 
he  had  toiled  for  all  night,  and  though  master  of  the 
vessel  left  the  net  to  sink  or  go  to  pieces  for  all  he 
cared,  and  sprang  into  the  water  to  greet  his  Lord. 
Jesus  Himself  was  the  first  to  see  the  significance  of 
the  act.  \  rhis  vehemence  of  welcome  was  most  grateful 
tcTiHtrrr'  It  witnessed  to  an  affection  which  was  at 
this  crisis  the  most  valuable  element  in  the  world. 
And  that  it  was  shown  not  by  solemn  protestations 
made  in  public  or  as  part  of  a  religious  service,  but  in 
so  apparently  secular  and  trivial  an  incident,  makes  it 
all  the  more  valuable.  Jesus  hailed  with  the  deepest 
satisfaction  Peter's  impetuous  abandonment  of  his 
fishing  gear  and  impatient  springing  to  greet  Him, 
because  as  plainly  as  possible  it  showed  that  after 
all  Christ  was  incomparably  more  to  him  than  the 
old  life.  And  therefore  when  the  first  excitement 
had  cooled  down  Jesus  gives  Peter  an  opportunity  of 
putting  this  in  words  by  asking  him,  "Simon,  son  of 
-  Jonas,  lovest  thou  Me  more  than  these  ? "  Am  I  to 
interpret  this  action  of  yours  as  really  meaning  what 
it  seems  to  mean — that  I  am  more  to  you  than  boat, 
nets,  old  ways,  old  associations?  Your  letting  go  the 
net  at  the  critical  moment,  and  so  risking  the  loss  of 
all,  seemed  to  say  that  you  love  Me  more  than  your 
sole  means  of  gaining  a  livelihood.  Well,  is  it  so  ? 
Am  I  to  draw  this  conclusion  ?     Am  I  to  understand 

that  with  a  mind  made  up  you  do  love  Me  more  than 

-J 


xxi.  15-170  RESTORATION  OF  PETER. 


401 


these  things  ?  If  so,  the  way  is  again  clear  for  Me  to 
commit  to  your  care  what  I  love  and  prize  upon  earth — 
to  say  again,  "  Feed  My  sheep." 

Thus  mildly  does  the  Lord  rebuke  Peter  by  suggest- 
ing that  in  his  recent  conduct  there  were  appearances 
which  must  prevent  these  present  expressions  of  his 
love  from  being  accepted  as  perfectly  genuine  and 
trustworthy.  Thus  gracefully  does  He  give  Peter' 
opportunity  to  renew  the  profession  of  attachment  he 
had  so  shamefully  denied  by  three  times  over  swearing 
that  he  not  only  did  not  love  Jesus,  but  knew  nothing 
whatever  about  the  man.  And  if  Peter  at  first  resented 
the  severity  of  the  scrutiny,  he  must  afterwards  have 
perceived  that  no  greater  kindness  could  have  been 
done  him  than  thus  to  press  him  to  clear  and  resolved 
confession.  Peter  had  probably  sometimes  compared 
himself  to  Judas,  and  thought  that  the  difference  be- 
tween his  denial  and  Judas'  betrayal  was  slight.  But 
the  Lord  distinguished.  He  saw  that  Peter's  sin  was 
unpremeditated,  a  sin  of  surprise,  whilehis  heartjvas 
essentially  sound. 

We  also  must  distinguish  between  the  forgetfulness 
of  Christ,  to  which  we  are  carried  by  the  blinding  and 
confusing  throng  of  this  world's  ways  and  fashions  and 
temptations,  and  a  betrayal  of  Christ  that  has  in  it 
something  deliberate.  We  admit  that  we  have  acted 
as  ij  we  had  no  desire  to  serve  Christ  and  to  bring 
our  whole  life  within  His  kingdom ;  but_it  is  one 
thing  to  deny  Christ  through  thoughtlessness,  through 
in"ad ver ten ce,    through    sudden    passion    or   insidious, 


uriperceived  temptation — another  thing  consciously  and 
habitually  to  Retake  ourselves  to  ways  which  He  con- 
demns,  and  to  let  the  whole  form,  appearance,  and 
meanTng"oFbur  lite  plamly  declare  tnat  our  regard  for 

VOL.    II.  ~  26 


s^O 


<ffl 


w 


402  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

Him  is  very  slight  when  compared  with  our  regard  for 
success  in  our  calhng  or  anything  that  nearly  touches 
our   persormt    interests: — Jesus    lets  Teeter   breakfast 
first,  He  lets  him  settle,  before  He  puts  His  question, 
because  it  matters  little  what  we  say  or  do  in  a  moment 
of  excitement.     The  question  is,  what  is  our  deliberate 
choice  and  preference — not  what  is  our  judgment,  for 
of  that  there  can  be  little  question ;  but  when  we  are 
self-possessed  and  cool,  when  the  whole  man  within 
\       A.     us  is  in  equilibrium,  not  violently  pulled  one  way  or 
1  ^    L.          I   ^^^^'*»  when  we  feel,  as  sometimes  we  do.  that  we  are 
/D*  /    t^ppin^rjTivrgplvpc; ac;  wp  arfiip]|y  are^  do  we  then  recognise 

that_  Christ  is  more  to  us  than  any  gain,  success,   or 
pleasure  the  world_  can  offer  ? 

There  are  many  who  when  the  alternative  is  laid 

before  them  in  cold  blood  choose  without  hesitation 
I  to  abide  with  Christ  at  all  costs.  Were  we  at  this 
moment  as  conscious  as  Peter  was  when  this  question 
fell  from  the  lips  of  the  living  Person  before  him, 
whose  eyes  were  looking  for  his  reply,  that  we  now 
must  give  our  answer,  many  of  us,  God  helping  us, 
would  say  with  Peter,  "  Thou  knowest  that  I  love 
Thee."  We  could  not  say  that  our  old  associations 
'  are  easily  broken,  that  it  costs  us  nothing  to  hang  up 

^L    the  nets  with  which  so  skilfully  we  have  gathered  in 
'  .     the  world's  substance  to  us,  or  to  take  a  last  look  of 

)  the  boat  which  has  so  faithfully  and  merrily  carried 
us   over    many    a   threatening    wave    and    made   our 

1  hearts  glad  within  us.  But  our  hearts  are  not  set  on 
these  things ;  they  do  not  command  us  as  Thou  dost  ; 
and  we  can  abandon  whatever  hinders  us  from  follow- 
ing and  serving  Thee.  Happy  the  man  who  with 
Peter  feels  that  the  question  is  an  easily  answered  one, 
who  can  say,   *'  I   may  often  have  blundered,  I  may 


K 


xxi.  IS-17.J 


RESTORATION  OF  PETER. 


403 


often  have  shown  myself  gre£dy  of  gain  and  glory,  but 
TRoirkijuwesL  ttTaTTTove  Thee." 

~tn  this  restoration  of  Peter  our  Lord,  then^  tests  not 
the"conduct,  but  the  heart.     He  recognises  that  whi! 
tfieTonduct  is  the  legitimate  and  normal  test  of  a  man 
feetingrvet  there  are  times  at  which  it  is  fair  and  usefu 


to  examine  the  heart  itself  apart  from  present  mani-' 
festations  of  its  condition ;  and  that  the  solace  which 
a  poor  soul  gets  after  great  sin,  in  refusing  to  attempt 
to  show  the  consistency  of  his  conduct  with  love  to 
Christ,  and  in  clinging  simply  to  the  consciousness 
that  with  all  his  sin  there  is  most  certainly  a  surviving 
love  to  Christ,  is  a  solace  sanctioned  by  Christ,  and 
which  He  would  have  it  enjoy.  This  is  encouraging, 
because  a  Christian  is  often  conscious  that,  if  he  is  to  be 
ju'Bged  solely  byTTls~conduct7  he  inust  be  condemned. 
He  is  conscious  of  blemishes  in  his  life  that  seem  quite 
to  contradict  the  idea  that  he  is  animated  by  a  regard 
for  Christ.  He  knows  that  men  who  see  his  infirmities 
and  outbreaks  may  be  justified  in  supposing  him  a  self- 
deceived  or  pretentious  hypocrite,  and  yet  in  his  own 
soul  he  is  conscious  of  love  to  Christ.  He  can  as  little 
doubt  this  as  he  can  doubt  that  he  has  shamefully  denied 
this  in  his  conduct.  He  would  rather  be  judged  by 
omniscience  than  by  a  judgment  that  can  scrutinise  only 
his  outward  conduct.  He  appeals  ih  his  own  heart  from 
those  who  know  in  partkT  iinu  wliu  knowh  ctfrjlrings". 
He  knows  pertectly  well  that  if  men  are  to  be_£xpected 
to  believe  that  he  is  a  Christian  he  nmsLpjoye  this  by 
his  conduct;  nay,  he  understands  that  love  must  find 
for  itself  a  constant  and  consistent  expression  in  con- 
duct ;  but  itremains  an  indubitable  satisfaction  to  be 
conscious  that,  despite  all  his  conduct  has  said  to  the 
contrary,  he  does  in  his  soul  love  the  Lord* 


U". 


i' 


I 


ir- 


404 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 


r 


The  determination  of  Christ  to  clear  away  all  mis- 
understanding and  all  doubtfulness  about  the  relation 
His  professed"  followers  hold  to  Him  is  strikingly 
exhibited  in  His  subjecting  Peter  to  a  second  and 
third  interrogation.  He  invites  Peter  to  search  deeply 
into  his  spirit  and  to  ascertain  the  very  truth.  It  is 
the  most  momentous  ol  all  questions;  and  our  Lord 

,^ositively  refuisos  tu  lake  a  bupeificlcil,  cardess~matt^- 
of-course  answer.  He  will  thus  question,  and  thrice 
question,  and  probe  to  the  quick  all  His  followers.  He 
seeks  to  scatter  all  doubt  about  our  relation  to  Him, 
and  to  make  our  living  connection  with  Him  clear  to 
our  own  consciousness,  and  to  place  our  whole  life  on 
this  solid  basis  of  a  clear,  mutual  understanding  between 
Him  and  us.     Our  happiness  depends  upon  our  meet- 

W  ing  His  question  with  care  and  sincerity.  Only  the 
highest  degree  of  human  friendship  will  permit  this 
persisten^ questioning,  this   beating~15f"""us~t)ack   and 


bacFon  our  own  feelings,  deeper  and  deeper  into  the 
very  heart  of  our  affections,  as  if  still  itjwere  doubtful 
wEelHef'  we   had   not 


given 


an  answer  out  of  mere 


^fi 


\ 


politeness  or  profession    or   sentiment.     The    highest 

[degree  of  human  friendship  demands  cer^ainj^y,  a  hat;ig 

on  which   it  can   build,   a  love  it    can  entirely  trust. 

'  Christ  had  made  good  Hisright  thus  to^uestion  His 

followers  and  to  require  a  love  that  was  sure  of  itself, 

because  on  His  part  He  was  conscious  of  such  a  love 

and  had  given  proof  that  His  affection  was  no  mere 

sentimental,  unfruitful  compassion,  but  a  commanding, 

consuming,   irrepressible,  unconquerable    love — a  love 

that  left  Him  no  choice,  but  compelled  Him  to  devote 

Hmiself  to   merL_and~~'gd"  them   all  the  good^ln^His/ 

'^ower. 

Peter's   self-knowledge   is   aided    by    the    form    the 


xxi.  IS-I7-J  RESTORATION  OF  PETER.  405 

question  now  takes.  He  is  no  longer  asked  to  compare 
the  hold  Christ  has  upon  him  with  his  interest  in  other 
things  ;  but  he  is  asked  simply  and  absolutelY_whether 
love  is  the  rigHtname  for  that  which  connects  him  with 
his  Lord.  '^ Lovesi  ihou  MeT'  Separating  yourself  and 
Me  from  all  others,  looking  straight  and  simply  at  Me 
only,  is  ^*  love "  the  right  name  for  that  which  con- 
nects  us  ?  Is  it  love,  and  not  mere  impulse  ?  Is  it 
love,  and  not  sentiment  or  fancy  ?  Isjtjovej^^nd  not 
sense  of  duty  or  of  what  is  becoming  ?  Is  it  love,  and 
not  mere  mistake  ?  For  no  mistake  is  more  disastrous 
than  that  which  takes  something  else  for  love. 

Now,  to  apprehend  the  significance  of  this  question 

is  to  "apprehend  what  Christianity  is.     Our  Lord  was 

on  the  pomt  of  leaving  the  world;  and   He   left   its 

future^  the  future  of  the  sheep  He  loved  so  well  and 

had  spent  His  all  upon,  in  the  keeping  of  Peter  and  the 

rest,  and  the  one  security  He  demanded  of  them  was 

the  confession  of  love^for  Himself.     He  did  not  draw 

/'up  a  creed  or  a  series  of  articles  binding  them  to  this 

(     aiTd    that  duty,   to  special   methods  of  governing  Ihe 

\    Church  or  to  special  truths  they  were  to  teach  it ;  He 

)  did~not~summon  them  into  the  house  of  Peter  or  of 

<^  \   Zebedee,  and  bid  them_affix  their  signatures  or  marks 

j  to  such  a  document.  JHe  rested  the  whole  future  o( 

\  the  work  He  had  begun  at  such  cost  on  their  love  for 

Him.     This  security  alone  He  took  from  them.     This 

was  the  sufficient  guarantee  of  their  fidelity  and  of  their 

wisdom.     It  IS  not  great  mental  ability  that  is  wanted  • 

for  the  furTherance  ot  Christ's  aims  in  the  world.     It 

is  love  of  what  is    best,   devotion    to   goodness.     No 

question  is  made  about  their  knowledge ;  they  are  not 

asked  what  views  they  have  about  the  death  of  Christ ; 

they  are  not  required  to  analyse  their  feelings  and  say 


4o6 


THE   GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 


^ 


whence  their  love  has  sprung — whether  from  a  due 
sense  of  their  indebtedness  to  Him  for  delivering  them 
from  sin  and  its  consequence,  or  from  the  grace  and 
beauty  of  His  character,  or  from  His  tender  and  patient 
consideration  of  them.  There  is  no  omission  of  any- 
thing vital  owing  to  His  being  hurried  in  these  morning 
hours.  Three  times  over  the  question  comes,  and  the 
third  is  as  the  first,  a  question  solely  and  exclusively 
^as  to  their  love.  Three  times  over  the  question  comes, 
and  three  times  over,  when  love  is  unhesitatingly  con-., 
fessed,  comes  the  Apostolic  commission,  "  Feed  My 
sheep."  JLove  is  enougn — enough  nut  only  tcrsave  the 
Apostles  themselves,  but  enoughTto  saye^the  world. 

~The~  significance  of  this  cannot  be  exaggerated. 
What  is  Christianity?  It  is  God's  way  of  getting 
hold  of  us,  of  attaching  us_tojvhat  Js  goad,  of  making 
us  holy,  perfect  men.  And  the  method  He  uses  is 
the  presentation  of  goodness  in  a  personal  form.  He 
maFes  goodness  supi  emely  attractive  by  exhibiting  to 
us~Tt5~TeaTity  and  its  beauty  and  its  perman^nt_and 
multiplying  power  in  Jesus  Christ.  Absolutely  simple 
and  absolutely  natural  is  God^s  method.  The  building 
up  of  systems  of  theology,  the  elaborate  organisation 
of  churches,  the  various,  expensive,  and  complicated 
methods  of  men,  how  artificial  do  they  seem  when  set 
alongside  of  the  simplicity  and  naturalness  of  God's 
method !  Men  are  to  be  made  perfect.  Show  them, 
then,  that  human  perfection  is  perfect  love  for  them, 
and  can  they  fail  to  love  it  and  themselves  become 
perfect  ?  That  is  all.  The  mission  of  Christ  and  the 
salvation  of  men  through  Him  are  as  natural -and  as 
simple  as_thp  mnf her'g  _rarpgs^nf  her  child.  Christ 
came  to  earth  because  He  loved  men  and  could  not 
help  coming.     Being  on  earth,  He  expresses  what  is 


xxi.  15-17-]  RESTORATION  OF  PETER.  407 

in  Him — His  love,  His  goodness.  By  His  loving  all 
'men  and  satisfying  all  their  needs,  men  came  to  feel 
that  this  was  the  Perfect  One,  and  humbly  gave  them- 
selves to  Him.  As  simply  as  love  works  in  all  human 
affairs  and  relationships,  so  simply  does  it  work  here. 

And  God's  method  is  as  effectual  as  it  is  simple.  1 
Men  do  learn  to  love  Christ.     And  this  love  secures  i 
everything.     As  a  bond  between  two  persons,  nothing   | 
but  love  is  to  be  depended  upon.     Love  alone  carries 
us  out  of  ourselves  and  makes  other  interests  than  our 
own  dear  to  us. 

-'  TJuF  Christ  requires  us  to  love  Him  and  invites  us 
to  consider  whether  we~clo  now  love  Him,  because  this 
love  is  an  index  to  all  that  is  in  us  of  a  moral  kind. 
Inere  is  so  much  implied  in  our  love"  erf  Him,  and  so 
mucTTmextricably  intertwined  with  it,  that  its  presence 
or  absence  speaks  volumes  regarding  our  whole  in  ward 
condition.  It  is  quite  true  that  nothing  is  more  "difficult 
to  understand  than  the  causes  of  love.  It  seems  to 
ally  itself  with  equal  readiness  with  pity  and  with 
admiration.  It  is  attracted  sometimes  by  similarity  of  ^ 
disposition,  sometimes  by  contrast.  It  is  now  stirred  , 
by  gratitude  and  again  by  the  conferring  of  favours.  ^\Jy^ 
Some  persons  whom  we  feel  we  ought  to  love  we  do 
not  draw  to.  Others  who  seem  comparatively  un- 
attractive strongly  draw  us.  But  there  are  always 
some  persons  in  every  society  who  are  universally 
beloved ;  and  these  are  persons  who  are  not  only  good, 
but  whose  goodness  is  presented  in  an  attractive  form 
— who  have  some  personal  charm,  in  appearance  or 
manner  or  disposition.  If  some  churlish  person  does 
not  own  the  ascendency,  you  know  that  the  churlish- 
ness goes  deep  into  the  character. 

But  this  poorly  illustrates  the  ascendency  of  Christ 


V^ 


4o8  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

and  what  our  denial  of  it  implies.  His  goodness  is 
perfect  andit_is  complete.  Nnt_to_1ove  Him  is  not  to 
love  goodness ;  it  is  to  be  out  of  sympathy  with  what 
attracts  pure  and  loving  spirits.  For  whatever  be  the 
apparent  or  obscure  causes  of  love,  this  is  certain — that 
we  love  that  which  best  fits  and  stimulates  our  whole 
nature^  Love  lies  deeper  than  the  will :  we  cannot 
love  B^ause  we  wish  to  do  so,  any  more  than  we  can 
tasLL  lionLy  bllLci'  becauBe~we~wish  to  dd~so.~  We 
cannonove°arpefson  because  we  know  that  their  influ- 
ence is  needful  to  forward  our  interests.  But  if  love 
lies  deeper  than  the  will,  what  power  have  we  to  love 
what  at  present  does  not  draw  us  ?  We  have  no 
power  to  do  so  immediately ;  but  we  can  use  the  means 
given  us  for  altering,  purifying,  and  elevating  our 
/nature.  We  can  believe  in  Christ's  power  to  regenerate 
\  us,  we  can  faithfully  follow  and  serve  Him,  and  thus 
we  shall  learn  one  day  to  love  Him. 

But  the  presence  or  absence  in  us  of  the  love  of 
Christ  is  an  index  not  only  to  our  present  state,  but  a 
prophecy  of  all  that  is  to  be.  The  love  of  Christ  was 
hat  which  enabled  and  impelled  the  Apostles  to  liye 
great  and  energetij:  lives.  It  was  this  simple  affection 
which  made  a  life  of  aggression  and  reformation  possible 
to  them.  This  gave  them  the  right  ideas  and  the  suffi- 
cient impulse.  And  it  is  this  affection  which  is  open 
to  us  all  and  which  equally  now  as  at  first  impels  to  all 
good.  Let  the  love  of  Christ  possess  any  soul  and  that 
r  'soul  cannot  avoid  being  a  blessing  to  the  world  around. 
Christ  scarcely  needed  to  say  to  Peter,  "  Feed  My  sheep; 
be  helpful  to  those  for  whom  I  died,"  because  in  time 
Peter  must  have  seen  that  this  was  his  calling.  Love 
gives  us  sympathy  and  intelligence.  Our  conscience  is 
enlightened   by  sympathy  with    the   person   we  love; 


Li' 


;j 


xxi.  15-17.]  RESTORATION  OF  PETER.  409 

through  their  desires,  which  we  wish  to  gratify,  we  see 
higher  aims  than  our  own,  aims  which  gradually  become 
our  own.  And  wherever  the  love  of  Christ  exists,  thgre 
sooner  or  later  will  *^^  pnrpncpc  c\^  ThHct-  Kp  ^inr|ei— 
stood,  His  aims  be  accepted,  His  fervent  desire  and 
energetic  endeavour  for  the  highest  spiritual  condition 
ot  the  race  become  energetic  in  us^rid^ carry  us  forward 
to  all  good.  Indeed,  Jesus  warns  Peter  of  the  uncon- 
trollable power  of  this  affection  he  expressed.  "  When 
you  were  younger,"  He  says,  "  you  girded  yourself  and 
walked  where  you  would ;  but  when  you  are  old  another 
shall  gird  you,  and  carry  you  on  to  martyrdom."  For' 
he  who  is  possessed  by  the  love  of  Christ  is  as  little  his 
own  master  and  can  as  little  shrink  from  what  that  love 
carries  him  to  as  the  man  that  is  carried  to  execution 
by  a  Roman  guard.  Self-possession  terminates  when  y 
the  soul  can  truly  say,  '*  Thou  knowest  that  I  love  Thee." 
There  is  henceforth  no  choosing  of  ways  of  our  ownf ' 
our  highest  and  best  self  is  evoked  in  all  its  power,  and 
asserts  itself  by  complete  abnegation  of  self  and  eager 
identification  of  self  with  Christ.  This  new  affection 
commands  the  whole  life  and  the  whole  nature.  No 
more  can  the  man  spend  himself  in  self-chosen  activities, 
in  girding  himself  for  great  deeds  of  individual  glorifi- 
cation, or  in  walking  in  ways  that  promise  pleasure  or 
profit  to  self;  he  willingly  stretches  forth  his  hands,  and 
is  carried  to  much  that  flesh  and  blood  shrink  from,  but 
which  is  all  made  inevitable,  welcome,  and  blessed  to 
him  through  the  joy  of  that  love  that  has  appointed  it. 

But  are  we  not  thus  pronouncing  our  own  condemna- 
tion ?  This  is,  it  is  easy  to  see,  the  true  and  natural 
education  of  the  human  spirit — to  love  Christ,  and  so 
learn  to  see  with  His  eyes  and  become  enamoured  of 
His  aims  and-'growfup  to  His^likeness.     But  where  in 


4IO  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

US  is  this  absorbing,  educating,  impelling,  irresistible 

power  ?     To  recognise  the  beauty  and  the  certainty  of 

I  God's  method  is  not  the  difificulty;  the  difficulty  is  to 

use  it^  to  find  in  ourselves  that  which  carries  us  into 

i  the  presence  of  Christ,    saying,    "  Thou    knowest   all 

_tHT^5-;  thou  knowest  that  I  love  Thee."    Admiration  we 

have ;  reverence  we  have ;  faith  we  have ;  but  there  is 

more  fTian  these  needed.     None  of  these  will  impel  us 

to  lite-long  obedience.     Love  alone  can  carry  us  away 

■fafflLsinful  and  selfish  ways.    But  this  testing  question, 

"  Lovest  thou  Me  ?  "  was  not  the  first  but  the  last  put  to 

Peterby  our  Lord.     It  was  only  put  after  they  had 

passed  through  many  searching  experiences  together. 

And  if  we  feel  that  for  us  to  adopt  as  our  own  Peter's 

J  assured  answer  would  only  be  to  deceive  ourselves  and 

I  trifle  with  the  most  serious  of  matters,  we  are  to  con- 

I  sider  that  Christ  seeks  to  win  our  love  also,  and  that 

I   the   ecstasy  of  confessing  our  love  with  Assurance  is 

I    reserved  even  for  us.     It  is  possible  we  may  already 

^Taye^  more  love  than  we  think.     It  is  no  uncommon 

thing  to  love  a  person  and  not  know  it  until  some 

unusual   emergency  or   conjuncture   of  circumstances 

reveals  us  to  ourselves.     But  if  we  are  neither  con- 

/  scious  of  love  nor  can  detect  any  marks  of  it  in  our  life, 

f^f  we  know  ourselves  to  be  indifferent  to  others,  deeply 

'      seTHsh,  unable  to  love  what  is  high  and  self-sacrificing, 

V    let  us  candidly  admit  the  full  significance  of  this,  and 

even  while  plainly  seeing  what  we    are,   let    us   not 

relinquish  the  great  hope  of  being  at  length  able  to 

give  our  heart  to  what  is  best  and  of  being  bound  by 

an  ever-increasing  love  to  the  Lord. 


XXVI. 

CONCLUSION. 


411 


"  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee.  When  thou  wast  young,  thou  girdedst 
thyself,  and  walkedst  whither  thou  wouldest  :  but  when  thou  shalt  be 
old,  thou  shalt  stretch  forth  thy  hands,  and  another  shall  gird  thee,  and 
carry  thee  whither  thou  wouldest  not.  Now  this  he  spake,  signifying 
by  what  manner  of  death  he  should  glorify  God.  And  when  He  had 
spoken  this,  He  saith  unto  him.  Follow  Me.  Peter,  turning  about, 
seeth  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved  following  ;  which  also  leaned  back 
on  His  breast  at  the  supper,  and  said,  Lord,  who  is  he  that  betrayed 
Thee  ?  Peter  therefore  seeing  Him  saith  to  Jesus,  Lord,  and  what  shall 
this  man  do  ?  Jesus  saith  unto  him.  If  I  will  that  he  tarry  till  I  come, 
what  is  that  to  thee  ?  follow  thou  Me.  This  saying  therefore  went  forth 
among  the  brethren,  that  that  disciple  should  not  die  :  yet  Jesus  said 
not  unto  him,  that  he  should  not  die ;  but.  If  I  will  that  he  tarry  till  I 
come,  what  is  that  to  thee  ?  This  is  the  disciple  which  beareth  witness 
of  these  things,  and  wrote  these  things  :  and  we  know  that  his  witness  is 
true.  And  there  are  also  many  other  things  which  Jesus  did,  the 
which  if  they  should  be  written  every  one,  I  suppose  that  even  the 
world  itself  would  not  contain  the  books  that  should  be  written."— 
John  xxi.  18-25. 


412 


XXVI. 

CONCLUSION. 

PETER,  springing  up  in  the  boat,  and  snatching  his 
fisher's  coat,  and  girding  it  round  him,  and  dash- 
ing into  the  water,  seemed  to  Jesus  a  picture  of  impe- 
tuous, inexperienced,  fearless  love.  And  as  He  looked 
upon  it  another  picture  began  to  shine  through  it  from 
behind  and  gradually  take  its  place — the  picture  of  what 
was  to  be  some  years  later  when  that  impetuous  spirit 
had  been  tamed  and  chastened,  when  age  had  damped 
the  ardour  though  it  had  not  cooled  the  love  of  youth, 
and  when  Peter  should  be  bound  and  led  out  to  cruci- 
fixion for  his  Lord's  sake.  As  Peter  wades  and 
splashes  eagerly  to  the  shore  the  eye  of  Jesus  rests  on 
him  with  pity,  as  the  eye  of  a  parent  who  has  passed 
through  many  of  the  world's  darkest  places  rests  on 
the  child  who  is  speaking  of  all  he  is  to  do  and  to 
enjoy  in  life.  Fresh  from  His  own  agony,  our  Lord 
knows  how  different  a  temper  is  needed  for  prolonged 
endurance.  But  little  disposed  to  throw  cold  water  on 
genuine,  however  miscalculating  enthusiasm,  having  it 
for  His  constant  function  to  fan  not  to  quench  the 
smoking  flax,  He  does  not  disclose  to  Peter  all  His 
forebodings,  but  merely  hints,  as  the  disciple  comes 
dripping  out  of  the  water,  that  there  are  severer  trials 
of  love  awaiting  him  than  those  which  mere  activity 
and  warmth  of  feeling  can  overcome.     "  When  thou 

413 


414  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

wast  young,  thou  girdedst  thyself  and  walkedst  whither 
thou  wouldest :  but  when  thou  shalt  be  old,  thou  shalt 
stretch  forth  thy  hands,  and  another  shall  gird  thee,  and 
carry  thee  whither  thou  wouldest  not." 

To  a  man  of  Peter's  impulsive  and  independent 
temperament  no  future  could  seem  less  desirable  than 
that  in  which  he  should  be  unable  to  choose  for  himself 
and  do  as  he  pleased.  Yet  this  was  the  future  to  which 
the  love  he  was  now  expressing  committed  him.  This 
love,  which  at  present  was  a  delightful  stimulus  to  his 
activities,  diffusing  joy  through  all  his  being,  would 
gain  such  mastery  over  him  that  he  would  be  impelled 
by  it  to  a  course  of  life  full  of  arduous  undertaking 
and  entailing  much  suffering.  The  free,  spontaneous, 
self-considering  life  to  which  Peter  had  been  accus- 
tomed ;  the  spirit  of  independence  and  right  of  choosing 
his  own  employments  which  had  so  clearly  shown 
itself  the  evening  before  in  his  words,  "  I  go  a-fish- 
ing " ;  the  inability  to  own  hindrances  and  recognise 
obstacles  which  so  distinctly  betrayed  itself  in  his 
leaping  into  the  water, — this  confident  freedom  of  action 
was  soon  to  be  a  thing  of  the  past.  This  ardour  was 
not  useless;  it  was  the  genuine  heat  which,  when 
plunged  in  the  chilling  disappointments  of  life,  would 
make  veritable  steel  of  Peter's  resolution.  But  such 
trial  of  Peter's  love  did  await  it ;  and  it  awaits  all  love. 
The  young  may  be  arrested  by  suffering,  or  they  may 
be  led  away  from  the  directions  they  had  chosen  for 
themselves  ;  but  the  chances  of  suffering  increase  with 
years,  and  what  is  possible  in  youth  becomes  probable 
and  almost  certain  in  the  lapse  of  a  lifetime.  So  long 
as  our  Christian  hfe  utters  itself  in  ways  we  choose  for 
ourselves  and  in  which  much  active  energy  can  be 
spent  and  much  influence  exerted,  there  is  so  much  in 


xxi.  18-25.]  CONCLUSION.  415 

this  that  is  pleasing  to  self  that  the  amount  of  love  to 
Christ  required  for  such  a  life  may  seem  very  small. 
Any  little  disappointment  or  difficulty  we  meet  with 
acts  only  as  a  tonic,  like  the  chill  of  the  waters  of  the 
lake  at  dawn.  But  when  the  ardent  spirit  is  bound  in 
the  fetters  of  a  disabled,  sickly  body ;  when  a  man  has 
to  lay  himself  quietly  down  and  stretch  forth  his  hands 
on  the  cross  of  a  complete  failure  that  nails  him  down 
from  ever  again  doing  what  he  would,  or  of  a  loss  that 
makes  his  life  seem  a  living  death ;  when  the  irresistible 
course  of  events  leads  him  past  and  away  from  the 
hopefulness  and  joy  of  life  ;  when  he  sees  that  his  life 
is  turning  out  weak  and  ineffectual,  even  as  the  lives  of 
others, — then  he  finds  he  has  a  more  difficult  part  to 
play  than  when  he  had  to  choose  his  own  form  of 
activity  and  vigorously  put  forth  the  energy  that  was 
in  him.  To  suffer  without  repining,  to  be  laid  aside 
from  the  stir  and  interest  of  the  busy  world,  to  submit 
when  our  life  is  taken  out  of  our  own  hands  and  is 
being  moulded  by  influences  that  pain  and  grieve  us — 
this  is  found  to  test  the  spirit  more  than  active  duty. 

The  contrast  drawn  by  our  Lord  between  the  youth 
and  age  of  Peter  is  couched  in  language  so  general 
that  it  throws  light  on  the  usual  course  of  human  life 
and  the  broad  characteristics  of  human  experience.  In 
youth  attachment  to  Christ  will  naturally  show  itself 
in  such  gratuitous  and  yet  most  pardonable  and  even 
touching  exhibitions  of  love  as  Peter  here  made.  There 
is  a  girding  of  oneself  to  duty  and  to  all  manner  of 
attainment.  There  is  no  hesitation,  no  shivering  on 
the  brink,  no  weighing  of  difficulties ;  but  an  impulsive 
and  almost  headstrong  commital  of  oneself  to  duties 
unthought  of  by  others,  an  honest  surprise  at  the  laxity 
of  the  Church,  much  brave  speaking,  and  much  brave 


4l6  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

acting  too.  Some  of  us,  indeed,  taking  a  hint  from 
our  own  experience,  may  affirm  that  a  good  deal  we 
hear  about  youth  being  warmer  in  Christ's  service  than 
maturity  is  not  true,  and  that  it  had  been  a  very  poor 
prospect  for  ourselves  if  it  had  been  true  ;  and  that 
with  greater  truth  it  may  be  said  that  youthful  attach- 
ment to  Christ  is  often  delusive,  selfish,  foolish,  and 
sadly  in  need  of  amendment.     This  may  be  so. 

But  however  this  may  be,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  in  youth  we  are  free  to  choose.  Life  lies  before 
us  like  the  unhewn  block  of  marble,  and  we  may  fashion 
it  as  we  please.  Circumstances  may  seem  to  necessitate 
our  departing  from  one  line  of  life  and  choosing  another  ; 
but,  notwithstanding,  all  the  possibilities  are  before  us. 
We  may  make  ours  a  high  and  noble  career ;  life  is  not 
as  yet  spoiled  for  us,  or  determined,  while  we  are  young. 
The  youth  is  free  to  walk  whither  he  will ;  he  is  not  yet 
irrecoverably  pledged  to  any  particular  calling ;  he  is 
not  yet  doomed  to  carry  to  the  grave  the  marks  of 
certain  habits,  but  may  gird  on  himself  whatever  habit 
may  fit  him  best  and  leave  him  freest  for  Christ's 
service. 

Peter  heard  the  words  "  Follow  Me,"  and  rose  and 
went  after  Jesus ;  John  did  the  same  without  any 
special  call.  There  are  those  who  need  definite  im- 
pulses, others  who  are  guided  in  life  by  their  own 
constant  love.  John  would  always  absorbedly  follow. 
Peter  had  yet  to  learn  to  follow,  to  own  a  leader.  He 
had  to  learn  to  seek  the  guidance  of  his  Lord's  will,  to 
wait  upon  that  will  and  to  interpret  it — never  an  easy 
thing  to  do,  and  least  of  all  easy  to  a  man  like  Peter, 
fond  of  managing,  of  taking  the  lead,  too  hasty  to  let 
his  thoughts  settle  and  his  spirit  fixedly  consider  the 
mind  of  Christ. 


xxi.  18-25.]  CONCLUSION.  417 

It  is  obvious  that  when  Jesus  uttered  the  words 
"  Follow  Me,"  He  moved  away  from  the  spot  where 
they  had  all  been  standing  together.  And  yet,  coming 
as  they  did  after  so  very  solemn  a  colloquy,  these  words 
must  have  carried  to  Peter's  mind  a  further  significance 
than  merely  an  intimation  that  the  Lord  wished  His 
company  then.  Both  in  the  mind  of  the  Lord  and  of 
Peter  there  seems  still  to  have  been  a  vivid  remem- 
brance of  Peter's  denial;  and  as  the  Lord  has  given 
him  opportunity  of  confessing  his  love,  and  has  hinted 
what  this  love  will  lead  him  to,  He  appropriately  re- 
minds him  that  any  penalties  he  might  suffer  for  his 
love  were  all  in  the  path  which  led  straight  to  where 
Christ  Himself  for  ever  is.  The  superiority  to  earthly 
distresses  which  Christ  now  enjoyed  would  one  day  be 
his.  But  while  he  is  beginning  to  take  in  these  thoughts 
Peter  turns  and  sees  John  following ;  and,  with  that 
promptness  to  interfere  which  characterised  him,  he 
asked  Jesus  what  was  to  become  of  this  disciple.  This 
question  betrayed  a  want  of  steadiness  and  seriousness 
in  contemplating  his  own  duty,  and  met  therefore  with 
rebuke :  "  If  I  will  that  he  tarry  till  I  come,  what  is 
that  to  thee  ?  follow  thou  Me."  Peter  was  prone  to 
intermeddle  with  matters  beyond  his  sphere,  and  to 
manage  other  people's  affairs  for  them.  Such  a  dis- 
position always  betrays  a  lack  of  devotion  to  our  own 
calling.  To  brood  over  the  easier  lot  of  our  friend,  to 
envy  him  his  capacity  and  success,  to  grudge  him  his 
advantages  and  happiness,  is  to  betray  an  injurious 
weakness  in  ourselves.  To  be  unduly  anxious  about 
the  future  of  any  part  of  Christ's  Church,  as  if  He  had 
omitted  to  arrange  for  that  future,  to  act  as  if  we  were 
essential  to  the  well-being  of  some  part  of  Christ's 
Church,  is  to  intermeddle  like  Peter.    To  show  astonish- 

voL.  11.  27 


4i8  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

ment  or  entire  incredulity  or  misunderstanding  if  a 
course  in  life  quite  different  from  ours  is  found  to  be 
quite  as  useful  to  Christ's  people  and  to  the  world  as 
ours ;  to  show  that  we  have  not  yet  apprehended  how 
many  men,  how  many  minds,  how  many  methods,  it 
takes  to  make  a  world,  is  to  incur  the  rebuke  of  Peter. 
Christ  alone  is  broad  as  humanity  and  has  sympathy 
for  all.  He  alone  can  find  a  place  in  His  Church  for 
every  variety  of  man. 

Coming  to  the  close  of  this  Gospel,  we  cannot  but 
most  seriously  ask  ourselves  whether  in  our  case  it 
has  accomplished  its  object.  We  have  admired  its 
wonderful  compactness  and  literary  symmetry.  It  is  a 
pleasure  to  study  a  writing  so  perfectly  planned  and 
wrought  out  with  such  unfailing  beauty  and  finish. 
No  one  can  read  this  Gospel  without  being  the  better 
for  it,  for  the  mind  cannot  pass  through  so  many 
significant  scenes  without  being  instructed,  nor  be 
present  at  so  many  pathetic  passages  without  being 
softened  and  purified.  But  after  all  the  admiration 
we  have  spent  upon  the  form  and  the  sympathy  we 
have  felt  with  the  substance  of  this  most  wonderful  of 
literary  productions,  there  remains  the  question  :  Has 
it  accomplished  its  object  ?  John  has  none  of  the 
artifice  of  the  modern  teacher  who  veils  his  didactic 
purpose  from  the  reader.  He  plainly  avows  his  object 
in  writing  :  "  These  signs  are  written  that  ye  might 
believe  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  and 
that  believing  ye  might  have  life  through  His  name." 
After  half  a  century's  experience  and  consideration,  he 
selects  from  the  abundant  material  afforded  him  in  the 
life  of  Jesus  those  incidents  and  conversations  which 
had  most  powerfully  impressed  himself  and  which 
seemed  most  significant  to  others,  and  these  he  presents 


xxi.  18-25.]  CONCLUSION.  419 


as  sufficient  evidence  of  the  divinity  of  his  Lord,  The 
mere  fact  that  he  does  so  is  itself  very  strong  evidence 
of  his  truth.  Here  is  a  Jew,  trained  to  beUeve  that 
no  sin  is  so  heinous  as  blasphemy,  as  the  worshipping 
more  gods  than  one  or  making  any  equal  with  God — a 
man  to  whom  the  most  attractive  of  God's  attributes 
was  His  truth,  who  felt  that  the  highest  human  joy  was 
to  be  in  fellowship  with  Him  in  whom  is  no  darkness 
at  all,  who  knows  the  truth,  who  is  the  truth,  who  leads 
and  enables  men  to  walk  in  the  light  as  He  is  in  the  light. 
What  has  this  hater  of  idolatry  and  of  lying  found  as 
the  result  of  a  holy,  truth-seeking  life  ?  He  has  found 
that  Jesus,  with  whom  he  lived  on  terms  of  the  most 
intimate  friendship,  whose  words  he  listened  to,  the 
working  of  whose  feelings  he  had  scanned,  whose 
works  he  had  witnessed,  was  the  Son  of  God.  I  say 
the  mere  fact  that  such  a  man  as  John  seeks  to  per- 
suade us  of  the  divinity  of  Christ  goes  far  to  prove  that 
Christ  was  Divine.  This  was  the  impression  His  life 
left  on  the  man  who  knew  Him  best,  and  who  was, 
judging  from  his  own  life  and  Gospel,  better  able  to 
judge  than  any  man  who  has  since  lived.  It  is  some- 
times even  objected  to  this  Gospel  that  you  cannot  dis- 
tinguish between  the  sayings  of  the  Evangelist  and  the 
sayings  of  his  Master.  Is  there  any  other  writer  who 
would  be  in  the  smallest  danger  of  having  his  words 
confounded  with  Christ's  ?  Is  not  this  the  strongest 
proof  that  John  was  in  perfect  sympathy  with  Jesus, 
and  was  thus  fitted  to  understand  Him  ?  And  it  is  this 
man,  who  seems  alone  capable  of  being  compared  with 
Jesus,  that  explicitly  sets  Him  immeasurably  above 
himself,  and  devotes  his  life  to  the  promulgation  of  this 
belief. 

John,  however,  does  not  expect  that  men  will  believe 


420  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

this  most  stupendous  of  truths  on  his  mere  word.  He 
sets  himself  therefore  to  reproduce  the  hfe  of  Jesus,  and 
to  retain  in  the  world's  memory  those  salient  features 
which  gave  it  its  character.  He  does  not  argue  nor 
draw  inferences.  He  believes  that  what  impressed 
him  will  impress  others.  One  by  one  he  cites  his 
witnesses.  In  the  simplest  language  he  tells  us  what 
Christ  said  and  what  He  did,  and  lets  us  hear  what  this 
man  and  that  man  said  of  Him.  He  tells  us  how  the 
Baptist,  himself  pure  to  asceticism,  so  true  and  holy  as 
to  command  the  submission  of  all  classes  in  the  com- 
munity, assured  the  people  that  he,  though  greater  and 
felt  to  be  greater  than  any  of  their  old  prophets,  was 
not  of  the  same  world  as  Jesus.  This  man  who  stands 
on  the  pinnacle  of  human  heroism  and  attainment, 
reverenced  by  his  nation,  feared  by  princes  for  the 
sheer  purity  of  his  character,  uses  every  contrivance 
of  language  to  make  the  people  understand  that  Jesus  is 
infinitely  above  him,  incomparable.  He  himself,  he 
said,  was  of  the  earth  :  Jesus  was  from  above  and  above 
all ;  He  was  from  heaven,  and  could  speak  of  things  He 
had  seen  ;  He  was  the  Son. 

The  Evangelist  tells  us  how  the  incredulous  but 
guileless  Nathanael  was  convinced  of  the  supremacy 
of  Jesus,  and  how  the  hesitating  Nicodemus  was  con- 
strained to  acknowledge  Him  a  teacher  sent  by  God. 
And  so  he  cites  witness  after  witness,  never  garbling 
their  testimony,  not  making  all  bear  the  one  uniform 
testimony  which  he  himself  bears  ;  nay,  showing  with 
as  exact  a  truthfulness  how  unbelief  grew,  as  how  faith 
rose  from  one  degree  to  another,  until  the  climax  is 
reached  in  Thomas's  explicit  confession,  "  My  Lord  and 
my  God !  "  No  doubt  some  of  the  confessions  which 
John  records  were  not  acknowledgments  of  the  full  and 


xxi.  18-25.]  CONCLUSION.  421 

proper  divinity  of  Christ.  The  term  "  Son  of  God  " 
cannot,  wherever  used,  be  supposed  to  mean  that  Christ 
is  God.  We,  though  human,  are  all  of  us  sons  of  God 
— in  one  sense  by  our  natural  birth,  in  another  by  our 
regeneration.  But  there  are  instances  in  which  the 
interpreter  is  compelled  to  see  in  the  term  a  fuller 
significance,  and  to  accept  it  as  attributing  divinity  to 
Christ.  When,  for  example,  John  says,  "  No  man  hath 
seen  God  at  any  time :  the  only-begotten  Son,  which  is 
in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  He  hath  declared  Him," 
it  is  evident  that  he  thinks  of  Christ  as  standing  in  a 
unique  relation  to  God,  which  separates  Him  from  the 
ordinary  relation  in  which  men  stand  to  God.  And 
that  the  disciples  themselves  passed  from  a  more 
superficial  use  of  the  term  to  a  use  which  had  a  deeper 
significance  is  apparent  in  the  instance  of  Peter.  When 
Peter  in  answer  to  the  inquiry  of  Jesus  replied,  "Thou 
art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God,"  Jesus 
replied,  "  Flesh  and  blood  hath  not  revealed  this  unto 
thee  " ;  but  this  was  making  far  too  much  of  Peter's 
confession  if  he  only  meant  to  acknowledge  Him  to  be 
the  Messiah.  In  point  of  fact,  flesh  and  blood  did 
reveal  the  Messiahship  of  Jesus  to  Peter,  for  it  was  his 
own  brother  Andrew  who  told  Peter  that  he  had  found 
the  Messiah,  and  brought  him  to  Jesus.  Plainly  there- 
fore Jesus  meant  that  Peter  had  now  made  a  further 
step  in  his  knowledge  and  in  his  faith,  and  had  learned 
to  recognise  Jesus  as  not  only  Messiah,  but  as  Son  of 
God  in  the  proper  sense. 

In  this  Gospel,  then,  we  have  various  forms  of 
evidence.  We  have  the  testimonies  of  men  who  had 
seen  and  heard  and  known  Jesus,  and  who,  though 
Jews,  and  therefore  intensely  prejudiced  against  such 
a  conception,  enthusiastically  owned  that  Christ  was  in 


422  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

the  proper  sense  Divine.  We  have  John's  own  testi- 
mony, who  writes  his  Gospel  for  the  purpose  of  winning 
men  to  faith  in  Christ's  Sonship,  who  calls  Christ 
Lord,  applying  to  Him  the  title  of  Jehovah,  and  who 
in  so  many  words  declares  that  "  the  Word  was  God  " 
— the  Word  who  became  flesh  in  Jesus  Christ.  And 
what  is  perhaps  even  more  to  the  purpose,  we  have 
affirmations  of  the  same  truth  made  by  Jesus  Himself: 
"  Before  Abraham  was  I  am " ;  "I  and  the  Father  are 
one  " ;  "  The  glory  which  I  had  with  Thee  before  the 
world  was " ;  "  He  that  hath  seen  Me  hath  seen  the 
Father."  Who  that  listens  to  these  sayings  can  marvel 
that  the  horrified  Jews  considered  that  He  was  making 
Himself  equal  with  God  and  took  up  stones  to  stone 
Him  for  blasphemy  ?  Who  does  not  feel  that  when 
Jesus  allowed  this  accusation  to  be  brought  against 
Him  at  the  last,  and  when  He  allowed  Himself  to 
be  condemned  to  death  on  the  charge,  He  must  have 
put  the  same  meaning  on  His  words  that  they  put  ? 
Otherwise,  if  He  did  not  mean  to  make  Himself  equal 
with  the  Father,  would  He  not  have  been  the  very  first 
to  unmask  and  protest  against  so  misleading  a  use  of 
language  ?  Had  He  not  known  Himself  to  be  Divine, 
no  member  of  the  Sanhedrim  could  have  been  so 
shocked  as  He  to  listen  to  such  language  or  to  use  it. 

But  in  reading  this  Gospel  one  cannot  but  remark 
that  John  lays  great  stress  on  the  miracles  which  Christ 
wrought.  In  fact,  in  announcing  his  object  in  writing 
it  is  especially  to  the  miracles  he  alludes  when  he  says, 
"  These  signs  are  written  that  ye  might  believe."  In 
recent  years  there  has  been  a  reaction  against  the  use 
of  miracles  as  evidence  of  Christ's  claim  to  be  sent  by 
God.  This  reaction  was  the  necessary  consequence  of 
a  defective  view  of  the  nature,  meaning,  and  use  of 


xxi.  18-25-]  CONCLUSION.  4*3 

miracles.  For  a  long  period  they  were  considered  as 
merely  wonders  wrought  in  order  to  prove  the  power 
and  authority  of  the  Person  who  wrought  them.  This 
vie\^-  of  miracles  was  so  exclusively  dwelt  upon  and 
urged,  that  eventually  a  reaction  came;  and  now  this 
view  is  discredited.  This  is  invariably  the  process  by 
which  steps  in  knowledge  are  gained.  The  pendulum 
swings  first  to  the  one  extreme,  and  the  height  to  which 
it  has  swung  in  that  direction  measures  the  momentum 
with  which  it  swings  to  the  opposite  side.  A  one-sided 
view  of  the  truth,  after  being  urged  for  a  while,  is  found 
o-ut  and  its  weakness  is  exposed,  and  forthwith  it  is 
abandoned  as  if  it  were  false ;  whereas  it  is  only  false 
because  it  claimed  to  be  the  whole  truth.  Unless  it  be 
carried  with  us,  then,  the  opposite  extreme  to  which  we 
now  pass  will  in  time  be  found  out  in  the  same  way 
ar.d  its  deficiencies  be  exposed. 

In  regard  to  miracles  the  two  truths  which  must  be 
held  are  :  first,  that  they  were  wrought  to  make  known 
tlie  character  and  the  purposes  of  God ;  and,  secondly, 
that  they  serve  as  evidence  that  Jesus  was  the  revealer 
of  the  Father.  They  not  only  authenticate  the  reve- 
lation ;  they  themselves  reveal  God.  They  not  only 
direct  attention  to  the  Teacher ;  they  are  themselves  the 
lessons  He  teaches. 

During  the  Irish  famine  agents  were  sent  from 
England  to  the  distressed  districts.  Some  were  sent 
to  make  inquiries,  and  had  credentials  explaining  who 
they  were  and  on  what  mission ;  they  carried  docu- 
ments identifying  and  authenticating  them.  Other 
agents  went  with  money  and  waggon-loads  of  flour, 
which  were  their  own  authentication.  The  charitable 
gifts  told  their  own  story ;  and  while  they  accomplished 
the  object  the  charitable  senders  of  the  mission  had  in 


424  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

view,  they  made  it  easy  of  belief  that  they  came  from  the 
charitable  in  England,  So  the  miracles  of  Christ  \rere 
not  bare  credentials  accomplishing  nothing  else  :han 
this — that  they  certified  that  Christ  was  sent  from  God ; 
they  were  at  the  same  time,  and  in  the  first  place, 
actual  expressions  of  God's  love,  revealing  God  to  men 
as  their  Father. 

Our  Lord  always  refused  to  show  any  bare  authenti- 
cation. He  refused  to  leap  off  a  pinnacle  of  the  Ternple, 
which  could  serve  no  other  purpose  than  to  prove  He 
had  power  to  work  miracles.  He  resolutely  and 
uniformly  declined  to  work  mere  wonders.  When  the 
people  clamoured  for  a  miracle,  and  cried,  "  How  bng 
dost  Thou  make  us  doubt  ?  "  when  they  pressed  Him  to 
the  uttermost  to  perform  some  marvellous  work  solely 
and  merely  for  the  sake  of  proving  His  Messiahship  or 
His  mission.  He  regularly  declined.  On  no  occasion 
did  He  admit  that  such  authentication  of  Himself  was 
a  sufficient  cause  for  a  miracle.  The  main  object,  then, 
of  the  miracles  plainly  was  not  evidential.  They  were 
not  wrought  chiefly,  still  less  solely,  for  the  purpose 
of  convincing  the  onlookers  that  Jesus  wielded  super- 
human power. 

What,  then,  was  their  object  ?  Why  did  Jesus  so 
constantly  work  them  ?  He  wrought  them  because  of 
His  sympathy  with  suffering  men, — never  for  Himself, 
always  for  others ;  never  to  accomplish  political  designs 
or  to  aggrandise  the  rich,  but  to  heal  the  sick,  to  relieve 
the  mourning ;  never  to  excite  wonder,  but  to  accomplish 
some  practical  good.  He  wrought  them  because  in 
His  heart  He  bore  a  Divine  compassion  for  men  and 
felt  for  us  in  all  that  distresses  and  destroys.  His 
heart  was  burdened  by  the  great,  universal  griefs  and 
weaknesses  of  men  :  "  Himself  took  our  infirmities  and 


xxi.  18-25.]  CONCLUSION.  425 

bare  our  sicknesses."  But  this  was  the  very  revelation 
He  came  to  make.  He  came  to  reveal  God's  love  and 
God's  holiness,  and  every  miracle  He  wrought  was  an 
impressive  lesson  to  men  in  the  knowledge  of  God. 
Men  learn  by  what  they  see  far  more  readily  than  by 
what  they  hear,  and  all  that  Christ  taught  by  word  of 
mouth  might  have  gone  for  little  had  it  not  been  sealed 
on  men's  minds  by  these  consistent  acts  of  love.  To 
tell  men  that  God  loves  them  may  or  may  not  impress 
them,  may  or  may  not  be  believed ;  but  when  Jesus 
declared  that  He  was  sent  by  God,  and  preached  His 
gospel  by  giving  sight  to  the  blind,  legs  to  the  lame, 
health  to  the  hopeless,  that  was  a  form  of  preaching 
likely  to  be  effectual.  And  when  these  miracles  were 
sustained  by  a  consistent  holiness  in  Him  who  worked 
them  ;  when  it  was  felt  that  there  was  nothing  osten- 
tatious, nothing  self-seeking,  nothing  that  appealed  to 
mere  vulgar  wonder  in  them,  but  that  they  were  dictated 
solely  by  love, — when  it  was  found  that  they  were  thus 
a  true  expression  of  the  character  of  Him  who  worked 
them,  and  that  that  character  was  one  in  which  human 
judgment  at  least  could  find  no  stain,  is  it  surprising 
that  He  should  have  been  recognised  as  God's  true 
representative  ? 

Supposing,  then,  that  Christ  came  to  earth  to  teach 
men  the  fatherhood  and  fatherliness  of  God — could  He 
have  more  effectually  taught  it  than  by  these  miracles 
of  healing  ?  Supposing  He  wished  to  lodge  in  the 
minds  of  men  the  conviction  that  man,  body  and  soul, 
was  cared  for  by  God ;  that  the  diseased,  the  helpless, 
the  wretched  were  valued  by  Him, — were  not  these 
works  of  healing  the  most  effectual  means  of  making 
this  revelation  ?  Have  not  these  works  of  healing  in 
point  of  fact  proved  the  most  eflficient  lessons  in  those 


426  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  JOHN. 

great  truths  which  form  the  very  substance  of  Chris- 
tianity ?  The  miracles  are  themselves,  then,  the  reve- 
lation, and  carry  to  the  minds  of  men  more  directly 
than  any  words  or  arguments  the  conception  of  a 
loving  God,  who  does  not  abhor  the  affliction  of  the 
afflicted,  but  feels  with  His  creatures  and  seeks  their 
welfare. 

And,  as  John  is  careful  throughout  his  Gospel  to 
show,  they  suggest  even  more  than  they  directly  teach. 
John  uniformly  calls  them  "  signs,"  and  on  more  than 
one  occasion  explains  what  they  were  signs  of.  He 
that  loved  men  so  keenly  and  so  truly  could  not  be 
satisfied  with  the  bodily  relief  He  gave  to  a'  few.  The 
power  He  wielded  over  disease  and  over  nature  seemed 
to  hint  at  a  power  supreme  in  all  departments.  If  He 
gave  sight  to  the  blind,  was  He  not  also  the  light  of  the 
world  ?  If  He  fed  the  hungry,  was  He  not  Himself  the 
bread  which  came  down  from  heaven  ? 

The  miracles,  then,  are  evidences  that  Christ  is  the 
revealer  of  the  Father,  because  they  do  reveal  the  Father. 
As  the  rays  of  the  sun  are  evidences  of  the  sun's  exist- 
ence and  heat,  so  are  the  miracles  evidences  that  God 
was  in  Christ.  As  the  natural  and  unstudied  actions 
of  a  man  are  the  best  evidences  of  his  character;  as 
almsgiving  that  is  not  meant  to  disclose  a  charitable 
spirit,  but  for  the  relief  of  the  poor,  is  evidence  of 
charity ;  as  irrepressible  wit,  and  not  clever  sayings 
studied  for  effect,  is  the  best  evidence  of  wit — so  these 
miracles,  though  not  wrought  for  the  sake  of  proving 
Christ's  union  with  the  Father,  but  for  the  sake  of  men, 
do  most  effectually  prove  that  He  was  one  with  the 
Father.  Their  evidence  is  all  the  stronger  because  it 
was  not  their  primary  object. 

But  for  us  the  question  remains.  What  has  this  Gospel 


xxi.  18-25.1  CONCLUSION.  427 

and  its  careful  picture  of  Christ's  character  and  work 
done  for  us  ?  Are  we  to  close  the  Gospel  and  shut 
away  from  us  this  great  revelation  of  Divine  love  as 
a  thing  in  which  we  claim  no  personal  share  ?  This 
exhibition  of  all  that  is  tender  and  pure,  touching  and 
hopeful,  in  human  life — are  we  to  look  at  it  and  pass  on 
as  if  we  had  been  admiring  a  picture  and  not  looking 
into  the  very  heart  of  all  that  is  eternally  real  ?  This 
accessibihty  of  God,  this  sympathy  with  our  human 
lot,  this  undertaking  of  our  burdens,  this  bidding  us 
be  of  good  cheer — is  it  all  to  pass  by  us  as  needless 
for  us  ?  The  presence  that  shines  from  these  pages,  the 
voice  that  sounds  so  differently  from  all  other  voices — 
are  we  to  turn  from  these  ?  Is  all  that  God  can  do  to 
attract  us  to  be  in  vain  ?  Is  the  vision  of  God's  holiness 
and  love  to  be  without  effect  ?  In  the  midst  of  all 
other  history,  in  the  tumult  of  this  world's  ambitions 
and  contendings,  through  the  fog  of  men's  fancies  and 
theories,  shines  this  clear,  guiding  light :  are  we  to  go 
on  as  if  we  had  never  seen  it  ?  Here  we  are  brought 
into  contact  with  the  truth,  with  what  is  real  and 
abiding  in  human  affairs ;  here  we  come  into  contact 
with  God,  and  can  for  a  little  look  at  things  as  He  sees 
them  :  are  we,  then,  to  write  ourselves  fools  and  blind 
by  turning  away  as  if  we  needed  no  such  light — by 
saying,  "  We  see,  and  need  not  be  taught  ?  " 


WORKS  BY  THE  REV. 

Professor    MARCUS    DODS,    D.D. 


THE     BOOK    OF     GENESIS. 

Seventh  Edition.     Crmun  Zvo,  cloth,  price  js.  6d. 

"The  execution  of  this  {Expositor's  Bible)  series  has  been  excellent.  Dean 
Chadwick's  treatment  of  the  Gospel  of  St.  Mark  is  in  almost  perfect  propor- 
tion, happy  in  style,  just  and  reasonable  in  temper,  and  full  of  helpfiil  and 
suggestive  thinking.  The  Colossians  and  Philemon,  by  Dr.  Maclaren,  finely 
illustrate  those  subtle,  spiritual  gifts  of  intellect  and  imagination  that  have 
made  him  the  favourite  teacher  of  so  many  earnest  and  devout  readers.  In 
the  Book  of  Genesis  a  much  more  difficult  and  thorny  piece  of  work  fell  to  the 
lot  of  Dr.  Marcus  Dods.  There  are  at  the  present  moment  peculiar  difficulties 
in  the  treatment  of  those  early  chapters  of  Bible  story.  The  minds  of  general 
readers  are  hesitating  bcwtvveen  the  old  literal  and  somewhat  secular  interpre- 
tation of  the  narrative,  and  the  new,  more  scientific,  but  not  always  more 
ideal  and  spiritual  reading  of  the  record.  That  a  settlement  of  the  problem  is 
possible,  and  indeed  not  far  off,  is  the  conviction  of  many  who  have  most 
thoroughly  studied  the  course  and  meaning  of  current  thought ;  and  they  do 
not  doubt  that  the  result  will  be  to  restore  to  us,  in  the  prelude  of  the  history 
of  redemption,  everything  tlie  heart  of  faith  needs  and  loves,  perchance  in  a 
purer  and  nobler  form.  Dr.  Dods  has  a  steady  head,  a  practised  hand,  and  a 
determined  will.  With  admirable  address  he  has  steered  his  way  between 
the  shoals  and  rocks  of  preliminary  questions,  and  has  brought  safely  to  port 
his  rich  cargo  of  exposition,  the  produce  of  many  an  arduous  voyage  of  dis- 
covery and  research."— i?^z/.  ProJ.  W.  G.  Elmslie,  D.D. 


THE     FIRST    EPISTLE    TO    THE 
CORINTHIANS. 

Fourth  Edition.     Crown  8vo,  price  ys.  6d-. 

"  He  shows  himself  to  be  thoroughly  at  home  with  his  subject,  and  that  his 
exposition  is  clear,  intelligent,  and  characterised  by  a  sobriety  of  judgment, 
a  candour,  and  a  sweet  reasonableness  which  are  worthy  of  all  praise,  is  only 
what  might  be  expected  from  a  writer  of  Dr.  Dods'  well-known  abilities  and 
culture." — Scotsman. 

"The  most  varied  of  Paul's  Epistles  demands  in  its  expositor  a  combination 
of  qualities  which  is  very  rarely  met  with.  He  who  would  read  it  aright  from 
beginning  to  end  must  be  theologian,  casuist,  and  historian  all  in  one  ;  he 
must  be  equally  at  home  in  the  anciwat  and  the  modern  Church,  in  ancient  and 
in  modern  life.  There  is  probably  no  man  living  in  whom  these  characters 
are  more  at  one  than  Dr.  Dods  ;  and  though  the  student  of  exegesis  may 
sometimes  look  in  this  book  or  what  he  will  not  find,  the  practical  expositor 
will  recognise  in  it  a  model  of  what  his  work  should  he."— British  Weekly. 


London:    HODDER    &    STOUGHTON,    27,    Paternoster  Row. 


WORKS  BY  THE    REV.   MARCUS  DODS,   D.D.    {continued) 


THE    GOSPEL    OF    ST.    JOHN. 

In  Two  Volvmes. 

Second  Edition.     Crown  8vo,  cloth,  price  js.  6d.  each. 

"An  excellent  contribution  to  the  series  {Expositor's  Bible).  Dr.  Dods 
appears  to  us  always  to  write  with  clearness  and  with  vigour.  He  has  the 
gift  of  lucidity  of  expression,  and  by  means  of  apt  illustrations  he  avoids  the 
cardinal  sin  of  drjness,  so  that  the  interest,  even  of  the  general  reader,  will 
not  flag  as  he  smoothly  glides  through  these  chapters." — Guardian. 


ERASMUS    AND    OTHER    ESSAYS. 

Second  Edition.     Crown  8vo,  doth,  price  ^s. 

"  Professor  Marcus  Dods  is  a  theologian,  and  much  more.  The  essays  in 
this  volume  show  him,  not  for  the  first  time,  as  a  man  of  much  reading,  of 
broad  and  genial  sympathies,  refined  but  liberal  judgment,  possessed  of  no 
little  literary  culture,  and  keenly  appreciative  of  literary  and  mental  power  in 
other  men  even  when  they  do  not  happen  to  belong  to  his  own  school.  They 
have  all  more  or  less  permanent  value.  They  are  good  literature,  and  make  a 
book  worth  having  and  reading." — Scotsman. 


AN    INTRODUCTION    TO    THE    NEW 
TESTAMENT. 

Sixth  Edition .    Fcap.  8vo,  price  2S.  6d. 

"The  compiler  has  placed  in  the  hands  of  ordinary  readers  the  results  of 
the  latest  scholarship  respecting  the  authorship,  genuineness,  date  and  place 
of  writing,  and  circumstances  attending  the  production  of  all  the  books  of  the 
New  Testament.    The  work  is  very  well  done  indeed." — Englisli  Churcliman. 

"When  %ve  compare  it  with  even  the  best  of  the  extant  volumes  on  the 
same  subject,  we  are  bound  to  acknowledge  that  Dr.  Dods  has  compressed 
into  the  247  pages  of  this  little  book  more  than  is  to  be  found  in  much  bulkier 
works." — Clii-istian  Leader. 

"It  contains  an  admirable,  brief  statement  of  the  conclusions  arrived  at 
concerning  the  books  of  the  New  Testament,  after  the  most  recent  and  careful 
investigations  of  modern  scholars.  Dr.  Marcus  Dods  has  packed  away  an 
immense  amount  of  information  in  very  small  space." — Metliodiat  Recorder. 

"A  more  admirable  manual  we  could  not  conceive.  The  student  will  here 
find  great  riches  in  little  room." — Baptist  Magazine. 

"  Dr.  Dods  has  earned  the  gratitude  of  Biblical  students  by  the  preparation 
of  this  work.  It  is  an  invaluable  manual,  so  compact  in  form  and  so  concise 
in  matter  as  to  render  it  specially  suitable  for  use  in  public  schools  and 
colleges  as  a  preparation  for  the  study  of  larger  works  when  time  permits. 
Let  any  young  minister  master  this  portable  volume,  and  he  will  be  well 
furnished  indee<i."~Methodist  New  Connexion  Masasine, 


WORKS  BY  THE  REV.  MARCUS  DODS,   D.D.    (continued). 


THE    PARABLES    OF    OUR    LORD 

As   Recorded   by   vSt.    Matthew. 
Eighth  Thousand.    Price  35.  6d. 

"  Unfolded  with  a  lucidity  which  ought  to  satisfy  even  IVlr.  Matthew  Arnold. 
The  crisp,  pointed,  and  graphic  style  of  Dr.  Dods  is  in  harmony  with  the  keen 
and  spiritual  insight  which  marks  him  out  as  a  prince  among  the  living 
expositors  of  the  sacred  writings."— C/?n's/!'a«  Leader. 

"No  thoughtful  reader  could  riee  from  its  perusal  without  being  imbued 
with  holier  feelings  and  actuated  by  sublimer  aspirations  than  when  he  took 
the  book  up." — Liverpool  Post. 

"  Eminently  popular  in  style  and  practical  in  aim." — Christian. 

"  Marked  alike  by  careful  language  and  sober  thought." — Guardian. 

"Intelligent,  reverent,  and  spiritual,  marked  by  much  literary  beauty,  and 
will  be  read  by  both  learned  and  simple." — British  Quarterly. 

"An  interesting  contribution  to  a  most  important  subject." — Presbyterian 
Churchtnan. 


THE    PARABLES    OF    OUR    LORD. 

Second  Series.     Parables  Recorded  by  St.  Luke. 
Sixth  Thousand.     Crown  Zvo,  cloth,  f  rice  3;^.  6d. 

"  Dr.  Dods  is  a  model  for  all  expositors.  He  is  lucid,  reverent,  and  suggest- 
ive. Though  his  style  is  usually  somewhat  austere,  it  frequently  blossoms 
into  rare  beauty  and  tenderness." — Sheffield  Independent. 

"He  offers  an  original  exposition,  marked  by  strong  common  sense  and 
practical  exhortation.  He  not  only  makes  the  circumstances  of  the  parable 
stand  distinctly  before  the  reader,  introduces  him  into  the  circle  that  heard 
it,  and  shows  distinctly  how  it  affected  the  bystanders,  but  he  also  applies  it 
skilfully  to  the  conduct  and  practices,  the  views  and  feelings,  of  the  men  or 
our  daj',  and  drives  its  lesson  home  to  their  very  hearts.  This  gives  a  great 
value  to  the  work." — Literary  Churchman. 


THE  PRAYER  THAT  TEACHES  TO  PRAY. 

Seventh  Edition.     Croivn  8vo,  price  2s.  6d. 

"  It  is  highly  instructive,  singularly  lucid,  and  unmistakably  for  quiet 
personal  use." — Cleri:yiiian's  Magasiue. 

"It  is  very  rarely  that  so  much  solid  exposition  can  be  found  compressed 
into  so  small  a  space.  .Soundly  evangeHcal,  the  lectures  are  at  the  same  time 
luminous,  refined,  and  practical,  abounding  not  only  in  fine  glimpses  01 
spiritual  intuition,  but  also  in  keen  analysis  of  human  character,  and  its 
sources  and  motives  of  action." — Freeman. 

"A  work  so  simple  in  style  and  in  structure,  breathing  at  every  point  the 
spirit  of  the  Master,  can  hardly  fail  to  find  acceptance,  and  is  eminently  fitted 
to  be  at  once  edifying  and  elevating." — Scotsman. 


WORKS  BY  THE  REV.   MARCUS  DODS,   D.D.    (conlimied) 


ISAAC,    JACOB,    AND   JOSEPH 

Sixth  Thousand.     Price  2,^.  6d. 

"  The  present  volume  is  worthy  of  the  writer's  reputation.  He  deals  with 
the  problems  of  human  life  and  character  which  these  biographies  sugg^est 
in  a  candid  and  manly  fashion,  and  where  he  discovers  a  spiritual  significance 
in  them  his  course  is  always  marked  by  sobriety  and  caution,  yet  he  is  not 
wanting  in  fervour  and  earnestness."— Spectator. 

"  We  commend  this  volume  to  our  readers  as  a  model  of  popular  expo- 
sition. .  .  .  For  insight  into  the  depths  of  the  character  portrayed,  an  insight 
which  amounts  to  intimacy,  we  have  not  for  many  a  day  found  any  work 
superior  to  this." — Baptist. 

"Dr.  Dods  has  the  double  qualifications  for  writing  biography.  He  is 
at  once  a  student  of  books  and  a  student  of  life.  For  reality  therefore, 
for  freshness,  for  penetration,  for  insight  into  character,  these  chapters  are 
incomparable,  and  for  the  purposes  of  '  Household  Exposition '  we  can  conceive 
of  no  healthier  form  of  literature  coming  into  our  families." — Christian. 


ISRAEL'S    IRON    AGE: 

Sketches   from   the   Period   of  the  Judges. 

Sixth  Edition.     Crown  8vo,  cloth,  price  3^.  (>d. 

"  The  popularity  of  this  volume  is  richly  deserved.  The  sketches  are  bright 
and  forcible,  and  abound  in  moral  teaching  and  practical  lessons  for  the 
golden  age  of  Victoria  as  well  as  for  the  iron  age  of  Israel." — Evangelical 
Magaaine. 

"Powerful  lectures.  This  is  a  noble  volume,  full  of  strength.  Young  men 
especially  will  find  in  it  a  rich  storehouse  of  prevailing  incentive  to  a  godly 
life.    Dr.  Dods  searches  with  a  masterly  hand." — Nonconformist. 

"The  characters  are  vividly  and  truthfully  drawn,  and  many  practical 
lessons  in  daily  life  are  enforced  from  their  virtues  and  vices." — Standard. 

MOHAMMED,    BUDDHA,    AND    CHRIST. 

Sixth  Thousand.     Crown  8vo,  cloth,  price  y-  (>d. 

"  Four  lectures  by  one  of  the  most  mature,  competent,  and  able  theologians 
of  the  sister  Church  of  Scotland.  The  book  closes  with  an  essay  on  Christianity 
which  is  not  only  of  much  interest,  but  full  of  thought  and  reverent  Christian 
speculation.  The  last  paper,  indeed,  is  a  decided  contribution  to  comparative 
theology,  and  as  a  summary  of  the  leading  points  on  which  the  science  of 
comparative  religion  may  be  said  to  turn  is  of  permanent  usefulness  and 
worth." — Christian. 

"Its  general  truth  few  reflecting  Christians  will  doubt,  and  its  elevating 
tendency  nobody,  Christian  or  unbeliever,  will  deny.  To  us  this  book  is 
specially  welcome,  as  an  evidence,  in  addition  to  many  others,  of  a  new 
outburst  of  earnest  religious  thought  and  sentiment." — Spectator. 


London:    HODDER   &   STOUGHTON,    27,    Paternoster   Row. 


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